No God is an Island
by starhawk2005
Summary: Part Five of the Light in the Dark series. Unfortunately, SHIELD aren't the only ones who know Loki is on Earth.
1. Chapter 1

**No God is An Island (1/3)**

**Author: starhawk2005**

**Fandom: Marvel's Avengers**

**Date: July 2013**

**Pairing: Loki/ Jane (Lokane)**

**Rating: Adult (18+).**

**Summary: Part Five of the Light in the Dark series. Unfortunately, SHIELD aren't the only ones who know Loki is on Earth. **

**Beta: All kneel before the Goddess of Proofreading, canyr12!**

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Marvel needs a rent-to-own program, clearly.**

**Author's Note: Movie!verse, as usual! And it's 56 freakin' pages! A new record for me for chapter length. *dies***

_It stands and looks out at the broken stars, a greedy smile splitting its face._

_The Chitauri refer to it as 'The Other', signifying that it is not of their race, even though the Master saw fit to make it their leader._

_To itself, it is only the Nameless One. Oh, it once had a name, but that was long ago. Before the Master came. Before the fire, darkness, and pain._

_But if it acquits itself well in this endeavour, it will avoid more pain. Perhaps the Master will even see fit to reward his faithful servant. The creature smirks unpleasantly at the thought._

_The Asgardian has been _found_. _

_The betrayer is on Midgard, which is something of a surprise to the Nameless One. But no matter. Though the humans had proved to have powerful weapons, those are of no consequence here, as the Nameless One doubts the humans will rush to defend the one who had attempted to lay waste to their home. _

_And so, well-schooled in patience by the Master, the Nameless One watches, noting the defenses the Asgardian has laid against attack. It laughs soundlessly at how pathetic those defenses are. The betrayer's magic is strong, yes, but these defenses seem carelessly made, as if the Asgardian did not believe it possible that he would be found. _

_Fool. _

_Besides, the Nameless One has his own powers, more than sufficient to counteract the Asgardian's petty defenses in any case._

_At his leisure, he plots the most amusing means of punishment for the Asgardian. The Master wishes the Asgardian _alive_, that he may be used to aid in gaining the Tesseract from the Realm Eternal. _

_But the Asgardian is strong, and the Nameless One is sure it can dream up some suitable tortures while they await the Master's arrival._

_It smiles, and it plots. Soon, the betrayer will pay._

Jane stands in the middle of her lab, fidgeting as she looks around. While it's not as disorganized as she had feared, the SHIELD agents obviously hadn't been familiar with Jane's way of filing everything, so it takes Jane three times as long as she expects to find the things she needs, especially since she's stumbling around in heels. Dad had always said one should dress nicely before meeting potentially important people, and this definitely qualifies!

Not that any of this helps her nerves any.

Finally, after an intense, tense search, she finds the structural equation model, clumsily titled the 'Quadruple Logistic Equation', which forms the basis of her theory. It's so bloody complex, than even _she_ sometimes confuses two or more of them and has to check her own notes again. Trying to teach it to Darcy had helped Jane get it straight in her own head, at least for awhile, but that doesn't change the fact it's a _monster_.

How they apparently manage to do it so effortlessly in Asgard, Jane has no clue, and it's difficult not to be jealous of them for that! She doubts the Gatekeeper Thor and Loki both told her about – Heimdall, if she remembers correctly – has to worry about calculating vectors, planetary gravity, quantum mechanics, the friction quotient of the interstellar medium-

"Hey, d'you need any help?"

Her hands stuck in the middle of a stack of papers, trying to hold them far enough apart so that she can read the titles without toppling the entire stack, Jane doesn't even look around at the sound of Darcy's voice. "Yes, please! I was just looking for my notes and scans from the last Bifröst event we managed to record-"

"They're over here," Darcy says helpfully, rummaging in a box on the other side of the lab. She comes over and hands the pile of papers and acetates to Jane. "_Love_ the suit, by the way. That dark blue really suits you."

"Thanks," Jane says, trying to sound casual though she can feel herself thrumming with nervous energy. Is today the day? Is _this_ the day which will ultimately lead to her dream becoming a reality?

Or will it only be another disappointment?

Darcy trails after her and watches as Jane loads a box full of her most important notes into the back of the Pinz. "Ready when you are," Darcy says, after Jane slams the back shut, Darcy trying not to stare too obviously at Jane's slightly-shaking hands.

Jane blinks at her. "Um, what?"

Darcy blinks right back. "Uh, I'm your lab assistant, remember? So how can you meet with Mr. Billionaire Superhero without me?" She gestures to the box of notes. "I can find your notes quicker than you can. Sometimes I think you don't even remember your own filing system." She pauses. "Especially when you're nervous," she adds delicately.

Jane blinks a couple more times. "You know I'm meeting with Stark?"

Darcy shrugs. "Yeah, Fury told me."

"I'm just surprised Fury wants to invite you to the party," Jane admits. "He doesn't strike me as the most 'open' guy-"

"Me neither," Darcy agrees as they climb into the car. "But I guess they figured since I was around when all the drama with Thor and Loki was taking place 'round here that I was already at the party." She shrugs and smiles. "At least until SHELD manages to invent that Men in Black mind-wipe doohickey."

Jane smiles.

"But anyway, remember when they threw all that money at you after Thor left? When they returned all our stuff? They did a background check on me then, too."

Jane chews her lip, suddenly feeling guilty. She'd expected them to dig into her life to a certain extent (and Erik's) once she'd agreed to being on their payroll, but…Darcy's too?

"So yeah, I doubt they'll arrest me at the door," Darcy winks. "Besides, hadn't you noticed? I wore a skirt today." She plucks at it by way of illustration. "Hate to waste it. Anyway, I'm here to help. Hey, that's a neat necklace. Did Loki give that to you last night? I don't remember noticing it before."

Jane smiles and starts the car, grateful for Darcy's presence and rapid-fire, distracting questions. A long lonely drive would only have reinforced Jane's anxiety about meeting Tony Stark.

"Yeah, he kind of…conjured it."

"Sweet!" Darcy gets an envious look on her face. "You know Jane, you've had not one, but _two_ gods fall for you. What's your secret?"

Jane giggles, a little embarrassed. "Honestly Darcy, I have _no_ idea…"

Darcy sighs. "If you figure it out, share, will you? 'Cuz those Asgardians…" she gives a low whistle. "Damn, are they _cut_. And I'm starting to get tired of men – human men – and their issues."

Jane snorts another laugh. "Trust me, Loki has issues. Hell, his issues _have_ issues."

Darcy gives her a sidelong glance. "Not with you, obviously."

Jane shakes her head. "No, not with me. But it's….complicated." His words come back to her: _As I said, it is family business, Jane Foster._

"Oh well, at least he's not hard on the eyes while he's working out his issues." Darcy winks at Jane and rolls down her window, resting an elbow on the frame. "Can you at least _finally _tell me how you and Loki met?"

Jane pauses and bites her lip, wondering if she should just tell the truth. She's tired of hiding, and of lying, and even if their 'arrangement' – relationship? – hadn't started off well, it's been pretty good since….

Maybe Darcy will withdraw her support once she hears the full story, but Jane realizes that's a chance she'll have to take. Loki loves subterfuge, it obviously comes with being the God of Mischief, but Jane isn't wired that way. She doesn't enjoy pulling the wool over other people's eyes the way he does, and in any case, she needs to save her energy for more important things, like building her wormhole generator.

Taking a deep breath and focusing her eyes on the road ahead, Jane begins: "It started a few weeks after the Battle of Manhattan, when I got this feeling, like someone was _watching_ me…."

Jane shouldn't have worried. She'd described how her relationship had begun with Loki, though she'd glossed over all of the kinky stuff, obviously. Then she'd filled Darcy in on Loki's battle with Thor, and how Loki had come to be with her in the SHIELD jail, and finally Loki's 'confession' to Fury.

She'd finished with the fact that Loki obviously had some major issues with Thor and with his family, but that he refused to let Jane in on the reasons why, and then Jane shut up and waited for Darcy's reaction.

Which was: "Boy, you weren't kidding. Dude definitely has _issues_."

Jane couldn't help giggling nervously. "That's _it_? That's all you're going to say?"

Darcy had looked questioningly over at her. "He's being good to you_, _right?" she'd asked.

"Yes." Jane had replied. "_Very_."

"Then I haven't changed my mind since last night – I wasn't _that_ drunk, you know. As long as he behaves himself, I'm going to support your decision." She'd paused, then smiled archly. "Well, behaves himself _outside_ the bedroom, anyway."

She'd winked, Jane had laughed, and then they'd moved on to other topics.

By the time they arrive at the SHIELD base, Jane and Darcy are in the midst of a friendly debate about whether Thor, Loki, and the rest of them should be considered 'gods' or 'aliens'.

The main sticking point seems to be their use of magic. Jane doesn't know quite what to make of it, despite her words months ago that 'magic is science we just don't understand yet'. Darcy, on the other hand, is of the opinion that Loki and Thor's magic is like ESP, and that maybe some humans have those abilities as well, even if scientists haven't proven it yet. So it's not magic, and therefore they are in fact _aliens_. Superior beings, sure. But not gods.

Jane pulls the Pinz into a parking space. "Just don't call Loki an 'alien' to his face, OK? He's definitely locked into this 'I am a god' idea."

Darcy nods and smirks. "Gotcha." She starts to open the car door, then pauses. "You ready for this?" she asks Jane.

Jane closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and tries to calm the fluttering re-birth of the butterflies in her stomach. They've been absent for most of the trip up here, thanks to Darcy, but now they are threatening to take over again.

"As ready as I'll ever be. Let's do this." She slides out of the car and strides purposefully around to the back to get her notes, though she wobbles a bit on her heels.

"I've got them," Darcy says, taking the box from her over Jane's feeble protests. "I'm the lab assistant, remember? I _assist_."

Over by the door to the imposing SHIELD complex, Jane spots two figures. One is Director Fury, the other a tall redheaded woman in a smart grey suit. Jane's never met her, but she can guess easily enough who it must be, from the things she has heard about Stark. Setting her shoulders and taking another deep breath, Jane walks over to Fury and the woman, her heels clicking loudly enough on the concrete to make Jane wince inwardly. _That's what happens when you get used to walking in sneakers all the time,_ she reminds herself.

"Dr. Foster," Fury addresses her. "This is Ms. Potts, CEO-"

"Of Stark Industries, I know," Jane interjects, her nerves driving her to interrupt, even as she tries to get a handle on them. She shakes hands with Potts, wincing inwardly again at the thought of how cold her hands must feel to the other woman.

"Please call me Pepper," she says, smiling kindly at Jane.

"And I'm Darcy, Jane's lab assistant," Darcy pipes up, juggling the box of notes so she can shake hands with Pepper as well. "Say, any chance I can get an autograph from Iron Man?"

"Darcy!" Jane sputters, heat rising into her cheeks. Is _that_ why Darcy wanted to come along so bad? Jane had no idea Darcy was such a fan of Iron Man.

But Pepper laughs. "I get that a lot, Dr. Foster. Don't be too hard on your assistant."

Jane smiles in reply and shakes her head. "I can just imagine. Please, though, call me Jane."

"Jane, then," Pepper nods. "Tony should be here within the hour. He was tinkering in his lab when I left, but I reminded him that it's not nice to keep women waiting." Pepper smirks knowingly, though Jane has to suppress a pang of envy at the thought of Tony Stark in his lab, with all the freedom and money to do whatever he wants, whenever he wants, _for _whomever he wants (himself, most likely).

If she plays her cards right, however, that will be _her_, won't it?

"Maybe we could wait indoors, in the air-conditioning?" Fury suggests. His eye focuses on the snake necklace around Jane's neck, and his expression sours for a long moment before he schools his expression back to neutrality. "Ladies?" He motions them ahead of him.

"Thank you," Pepper says, leading the way with brisk strides.

Jane glances over her shoulder at the parking lot just before the building swallows them up. She wonders if maybe Loki is here, listening and watching but cloaked from everyone's view. Somehow that thought, correct or not, settles her down a bit.

"Those are lovely shoes," Pepper compliments Jane as they settle into a lounge on the second floor, Fury excusing himself to attend to other things. The lounge smells pleasantly of coffee, and Darcy dumps her box on the couch and makes a beeline for the coffee machine like her life depended on it.

"Thank you," Jane says, smiling ruefully. "Too bad they look better than they feel." She wriggles her toes against the restraining black leather.

Pepper sighs. "Tell me about it. Sometimes I tell myself that if I'm not going to wear sensible shoes now, when I'm CEO, when will I ever get a better chance?" Smirking, she toes off her shoes, and after a moment, Jane smiles and does the same, both of them breathing a sigh of relief.

"That's one of the advantages of research, I guess – I can wear whatever I like. If I want to open a portal to another planet while wearing pajamas and bunny slippers, who's going to know?" Jane muses.

Darcy sniggers as she plops down on the soft couch next to Jane, adding her sparkly silver ballet flats to the discarded footwear on the floor. "No weirder than all those Asgardians showing up in Puente Antiguo looking like rejects from the local Renaissance Fair."

Jane stiffens. _Should we really be reminding Stark's right-hand man (excuse me, _wo_man) about Loki right now?_

But the warmth in Pepper's voice doesn't change. "That reminds me, I've been looking over your research, Doc- _Jane_." Pepper is saying. "It's truly remarkable what you've accomplished, especially given how little support and funding you've received from grant agencies and the academic community in general. I saw some of the schematics of the equipment you built from scratch. Tony was fairly impressed."

Jane smiles and blushes again. "Well, it certainly helped when Thor arrived. Once I knew that other worlds were out there, that other races had similar technology…" She shrugs. "And SHIELD's support didn't hurt either," she adds.

Of course, finally _knowing_ that wormhole travel was possible hadn't been her onlyreason for pushing harder at the time. She'd still been in love with Thor then. Which reminds her yet again that she's with Loki now, and Jane's smile falters slightly. Does she dare bring that subject up with Pepper, get it out of the way before Stark gets here?

Or does the other woman already know?

Pepper rises to her feet with a grace Jane wishes she could match, and fetches her own coffee. "I'm sure a Eureka moment like that never hurts. I'm no scientist – that's all Tony's department – but I've certainly seen him when that moment strikes." She grins. "He becomes like a hyperactive child on intravenous caffeine."

Next to Jane, Darcy snorts. "We should get together sometime and compare notes. Survival strategies and stuff like that," she quips, giving Jane a sideways _look_.

Jane shifts uncomfortably though she tries to smile. "Am I really that bad?" she asks Darcy.

"Nobody could be as bad as Tony," Pepper gives a long-suffering sigh, though the corner of her mouth quirks.

"Me? _Bad_?" comes a wounded male voice from the hallway. "And here I thought you liked the bad boys." The legendary Tony Stark strolls casually into the room, followed by Fury. Stark is wearing a Black Sabbath tee shirt and jeans that have seen better days. _Way _better days. "I feel suddenly underdressed," he quips, his gaze sweeping the room though it seems to linger longest on Jane.

The butterflies in Jane's stomach start to wheel in agitated circles.

Pepper makes an exasperated noise and rolls her eyes. "Tony Stark, may I introduce Dr. Jane Foster and her assistant, Darcy Lewis?"

Jane and Darcy stand, Jane's hands clenching themselves together in front of her. Moment of truth. It doesn't help that Fury is standing there, his single eye locked on Jane, or so it seems to her. And she's standing here in her bare feet to meet the legendary Tony Stark! Dad would be _so_ disappointed.

"Ladies," Tony says, shaking hands with both of them, his grip warm and firm.

Some of the tension breaks when he pecks Pepper on the cheek. "Get me a coffee, would you?" he asks her.

Pepper rolls her eyes again and sends Jane and Darcy a 'see-what-I-have-to-put-up-with?' look, but she smirks and strides over to the coffee machine.

Tony seat-drops onto the couch. "So, a wormhole generator," he says.

Jane sits down herself, vaguely aware that Darcy is still standing.

"Yes. That's probably the simplest way to put it. "Jane glances nervously up at Darcy, who looks a little nervous herself. _What the-? Oh, right._

"My lab assistant is dying for your autograph, Mr. Stark," Jane says with an inner sigh. Better get that awkwardness out of the way. _Before the other awkwardness, anyway. _

"No problem," he says. "And it's Tony. Got a pen?" he asks Darcy.

"You can go, by the way," Tony says to Fury as Darcy fumbles in her purse. "I think I can control a crowd of one raging fangirl." He winks at Darcy, who smirks saucily back.

Rolling his eye in annoyance, Fury snorts and leaves after a single nod at the rest of them.

"Stop pushing Nick's buttons," Pepper chides Tony gently, bringing his coffee over.

"Why?" Tony whines. "It's _fun_. And since when is he '_Nick_'?"

Jane has to stifle a giggle, her nerves settling somewhat. Tony seems so…normal? He's not what Jane was expecting at all, considering he's so rich, famous, and is a superhero to boot.

On the other hand, Jane can see the faint blue glimmer of the arc-reactor under his shirt. No, she amends, not normal. But not _frightening_.

"Anyway, I've been looking over all the records SHIELD has of your work to date," Tony says, handing pen and paper back to Darcy. "Impressive stuff. Some real leaps of genius there." He takes a sip of coffee, but his eyes seem to watch her carefully over the rim of the mug.

Or is Jane looking for distrust where none exists? She can't tell. People are so much harder to figure out than planets and stars! Mathematics just doesn't begin to capture the attitudes and thoughts of the human animal.

"Thank you," she says, blushing again, her eyes dropping to her lap. "I really appreciate you taking the time to consider working with me." She fidgets, then decides to take on the elephant in the room head-on, before she dies of anxiety. "Especially given the obvious…._complication_."

Tony's eyes sharpen further. "Pepper, Darcy, could you give us a couple minutes? Jane and I need to have a private conversation. Intellectual property issues to consider, and all of that," he adds though the last part is a joke, judging by his smirk.

Darcy raises an eyebrow, but Pepper nods in understanding and, snagging both their pairs of shoes from the floor, motions for Darcy to follow her. Jane thinks she glimpses a small reassuring smile from Pepper aimed towards her on their way out.

Jane clenches cold fists tightly in her lap, eyes on the floor as Tony rises and walks to the door Pepper just shut behind her. "So, Loki, huh?" he says, turning to face Jane.

Jane takes a deep breath. "Yes. I'm…involved with him. I guess Fury told you."

"Yep." Tony says. He takes a deep swig of coffee. "I think that might've even been the _first_ thing he told me."

Jane's not surprised. "Did he also tell you what Loki told him? About why he attacked us?"

Tony nods. "He did. Showed me the entire video of the confession, in fact."

Jane blinks. She hadn't realized Fury had recorded the conversation, but she's not surprised, again. "And?"

"Don't know that I believe all of it, or even most of it," Tony says, shrugging. "But from what I understand, Thor obviously knows where Loki is, but is letting Loki do his thing. And, frankly, do _you_," Tony points out, and Jane shifts awkwardly. "That goes a long way. While I don't know Thor all that well, I admit, I know enough about him to be pretty sure he wouldn't be able to sleep at night if he thought he'd left a monster running around down here."

Jane nods.

"Not to mention, the intrepid Director Fury is letting this project go forward," Tony adds, gesturing with the coffee mug.

Jane snorts. "I'm pretty sure that's so he can keep an eye on me." Even she is surprised at how bitter she sounds.

Tony chuckles. "Well, he _does_ only have the one," he agrees. He drains the mug and puts it on the counter, then flops down on the couch again.

"Still, I get the distinct feeling Fury wouldn't let this go ahead if he thought Loki was involved." Tony cocks his head. "_Is_ he?" His eyes fixate on Jane's necklace, and she wonders if Loki's gift is forever going to be an anchor around her throat.

Jane shakes her head. "No. We don't really talk about my work." She ignores the blush trying to creep into her face again.

Tony smirks. "I kinda thought he'd mellow a bit once he got laid."

Jane is startled into laughing loudly, and Tony joins her.

"I do wonder sometimes why he's never asked about my work," she admits. "Maybe even a Norse God can appreciate the good sense of giving someone else their space?"

Tony shrugs. "Seems to work for Pepper and me. She knows better than to get between me and my suits." He pauses and looks at Jane for a long moment, his eyes narrowed in a calculating way.

Seeming to come to a decision, he stands and extends a hand to her. "Are you free next Tuesday? I'll have Pepper make arrangements to get you to Stark Tower in New York. I'll show you the site for the new arc reactor, go over the specs with you and make sure they work with your theoretical model, that sort of thing."

Jane blinks up at him. Frankly, she'd expected more resistance than this. "Does this mean that you trust me, then?"

"You haven't given me any reason not to," Tony replies. "Just keep Reindeer Games away, OK? And no discussion of the actual portal or power source specs with him. Though I'd be telling you to do the same even if he was Joe Blow. It's S.O.P. for SHIELD."

Jane nods. "Of course. I figured as much." She rises to her feet and takes Tony's hand. "I…don't know what to say, Mr. Stark. I've been working for so long, spent so much time wondering if my portal could ever be built and-"

"It's Tony, and you're welcome. I always enjoy making history," he jokes, smiling warmly down at her. "Now," he says, motioning towards the door. "Grab your shoes. We'd better find our lady friends and One-Eye and tell 'em all the good news…"

Jane is so high on both relief and sheer excitement that Darcy takes one look at her face in the parking lot and insists on driving the Pinz back home. "You'll daydream us right into a ditch," Darcy argues, firmly pushing Jane towards the passenger side.

Darcy knows Jane well enough to know when she's in full-on geek mode and won't be in the mood to talk; Darcy starts the car and immediately turns on the Pinzgauer's radio.

Jane doesn't take offense at Darcy ignoring her; she _needs_ the head-space right now. So much to think about. Jane takes out her notepad and starts scribbling lists immediately at lightning speed, first of all the equipment she'll need to bring over from her lab, then of the estimated power requirements she'll need to generate a portal to Asgard – she may not be welcome there, as Loki's lover, but it's still the most obvious choice. Where else is she going to go? – and then a list of all the calculations she'll want to double- and triple- and maybe even quadruple-check.

It's a long drive though, and eventually Jane finds herself exhausted by the whole thing, even as her brain keeps buzzing along in a million directions. But Darcy is in her own little zone, still listening to the music and humming to herself, so Jane tries to turn her thoughts to something- anything- else.

The first thing that comes to her is Loki's voice: _Are there certain acts or scenarios you have always wanted a lover to do, to you or with you, that you wish to attempt with me?_

Jane rolls her eyes at herself. _Jesus H. Christ._ _Maybe Loki isn't the only one with a one-track mind. _

She turns to the window to hide her little smile. That's not true, she has _two_ tracks: Einstein-Rosen bridge, and kinky sex.

Still, she can see no actual harm – and it _would_ be a mental break from Stark-Foster for a few minutes – in thinking about what she might like to try. Or not. She already knows that she likes being overpowered, and that she likes dangerous men. Loki already fits the bill on both, but does she dare take it any further?

Maybe it would be safer, if less exciting, just to linger in the realm of something more mundane for a while? The 'hunt' they'd acted out had been damned _hot_, but if she does that kind of thing too often with him, won't _that_ get boring pretty quickly?

Or is she just talking herself out of trying more challenging things because she's _afraid_? Afraid of him judging her or laughing at her, afraid that he'll take things too far and it will stop being fun, afraid of exposing too much of herself?

Jane shakes her head slightly. This? Not helping. Damn.

She sighs and tries to engage Darcy in conversation instead. "I didn't know you were such an Iron Man fan," she says.

"I'm not," Darcy answers. "But they sell for a shitload of money on e-Bay."

Jane laughs until she almost pees herself.

Jane closes her (_her_! The idea still feels her with a kind of giddy joy) apartment door behind her. "Anyone here?" she calls, but she gets no answer. She doesn't want to say Loki's name just yet and summon him if he isn't here already; she'd realized on her way up the stairs that she hasn't given any thought at all to what she'll tell him about today.

The apartment is empty, the silence seeming to ring in her ears. She finds herself pacing absently from room to room, her brain still full of calculations and hypotheses…and worries about what could go wrong. What she might have missed.

It's one thing to work with Darcy (who doesn't really understand) and Erik (who in the past was tolerant of any mistakes on her part), but working with a legend like Tony Stark? Fucking this up is going to be _that_ much more embarrassing! Probably really bad for any remaining academic reputation she has as well.

After what feels like hours, Jane finally decides she'll never get any sleep tonight if she doesn't manage to shut her overactive brain down. So she makes herself a hot peppermint tea and goes up onto the roof. She already moved two chairs into 'her' corner during the move, and now she sits and watches the sunset, sipping the steaming liquid slowly.

She wonders if she should summon Loki, but that only leads her to start on a new worry: What, if anything, she'll tell him about today's meeting.

After a brief argument with herself, she decides the best way to handle this whole problem is to let _him_ ask, if he's curious. She realizes she wants him here, badly. She needs a distraction if she's going to be able to turn her brain and body off and relax at all tonight.

"Loki." she says loudly, a few decibels lower than a shout.

She wonders how quiet she can be, and yet still have him hear her. That will need to be an experiment for another time, for now there's a creaking of leathers behind her, and the god himself walks over to sit beside her.

"My lady," he smirks, raising her hand to his lips. She giggles and shakes her head in reply. She doesn't think she'll ever get used to that.

He scans the horizon and the clouds, pink-tinged from the lowering sun. "A lovely view." He pauses, then asks carefully. "And did you have a productive day, my Jane?"

She squeezes his hand as her barely-controlled excitement surges. "Yes, I'll say! I met with Tony – Stark, rather – and he agreed to work with me. He's going to build the power source for my por- my Bifröst!"

Loki smiles, seemingly delighted by her delight, but then a serious expression returns to his features. "Might I assume he knows about me – about _us_?"

Jane nods, her own smile wavering a little. But then she decides just as quickly that she won't buy into the shame that she thinks she can read on his face. "Fury told him. But Stark seems OK with it – Fury showed him your…confession. And Tony figures if Thor seems all right with you being here, and Fury is OK with me working with Stark Industries…" She trails off with a shrug, but her excitement renders her unable to sit still. She releases his hand and gets up and paces, draining the last of her tea, her feet making scuffing noises. Loki watches her restless movements curiously.

"Are you well?" he asks her after her fifth circuit of the rooftop.

"Yes, I am. Actually, I'm _better_ than well." She turns to face him. "Everything I've been working towards, for as long as I can remember…and now it feels like it's _right there_. Like I might actually be able to make this bridge between worlds _work_. It's not just a pipe dream or whacked-out scientific theory. Other people believe in it."

Loki frowns. "Why should they not? Oh, perhaps before, before Thor-" he pauses, grimacing, but then soldiers on: "-and I came here to your Realm, and yes, the Chitauri as well. But the other Nine Realms are out there, and denying it will not help your people be ready to meet them. Or to defend themselves."

Jane freezes in place, her blood going utterly cold. The mug dangles from abruptly nerveless fingers. "You think Fury wants my portal so we can somehow defend ourselves better against alien attack? Or escape?"

Loki shakes his head at her distress and rises from the chair to pluck the cup from her hand, and then he wraps his larger hands around hers. "In truth, I cannot say what he thinks. Or if that such is true, that he would be wrong. The universe and Midgard are not so different, in the sense that some who populate it are good, while others are of evil intent. No doubt once Midgard can open the way to other worlds, some will welcome your people with open arms – like Asgard, I would safely warrant – while others may look to conquer you. But even if it is the latter case, the Bifröst in Asgard has always proved useful, and thus I would wager having a Midgardian version will do more good than harm. " Warmth seeps into her skin from his, though his eyes look haunted.

"But why dwell on what may never come to pass?" he asks, drawing her in for a kiss. "Your first task is to build the bridge, and finally the other mortals are recognizing and supporting your hard work and intellect. Thus it seems to me that a celebration is warranted." He kisses her again, harder and deeper than before, his tongue curling around hers.

Jane smiles and tries to catch her breath when he lowers her back to her feet. "I don't know if I'm capable of cooking up an Asgardian-style feast." _Yeah, like ramen noodles, PB and J, Kraft dinner, and pancakes would even come _close_. _That's about the extent of her cooking ability, sadly.

He grins. "Such was not my intention. No, I shall find a suitable place for us to dine. I will make the arrangements, and return in half of one of your hours to collect you."

He vanishes before Jane can ask him anything further. _Crap. He didn't say if it was fancy or- _She has to chuckle. Right, like Mr. Terminally Overdressed would take her to Taco Bell to celebrate.

She goes back to her apartment, excitement still fueling her as she digs in the closet for her blue wraparound dress. Thank God she had decided not to pack it during the move, just in case, as most of her clothes are still in boxes! She only has the one pair of dress shoes, the same ones she wore to meet with Tony earlier today, so she goes to retrieve them from where she dropped them earlier.

She studies herself in the mirror. The dress leaves her shoulders bare, and she wonders if she should wear or bring a wrap of some kind. But that would cover Loki's gift, and it looks very good on her, paired with the dress. Well, no doubt if she feels cold, Loki can do something about that. She smirks and winks at herself, then applies a little makeup and brushes out her hair.

She then spends about ten minutes pacing the apartment again. Without Loki here to divert her attention, it's too easy to fall right back into ruminating about Stark-Foster-

A flash dazzles her eyes, and Loki is back. He's once again wearing his dark suit, white dress shirt, and _that_ scarf. The one he used to blindfold her in the SHIELD jail, to help her 'focus'. She finds herself blushing at the memory.

_And I thought_ I_ had few clothes,_ she thinks, hiding a grin. Loki seems to have exactly three outfits – Dressy Midgardian, Asgardian Casual, and Asgardian Armoured to the Max. But at least he's retained his progress with the hair-gel, or rather, the _lack _of hair-gel. Jane approves.

His eyes take in her form from head to toe. "My beautiful one. I shall surely be the envy of all. Come," he says, beckoning her with an elegant hand.

She shakes her head and blushes bright red at his compliment, but takes his hand. Half a heartbeat later, she is blinking the purple flashes out of her vision to find that they are standing in front of a renowned French restaurant. Even Jane, as unworldly as she is, recognizes the name. "You got a reservation _here_?"

He raises an eyebrow. "I am-"

"A God, yeah, I get it," Jane finishes for him, but she's chuckling.

He grins and tugs her gently with him into the restaurant.

The interior of the place is appropriately dim, the decorations in warm golds and reds, the booth they are settled into is plush and private, and the food is, of course, completely exquisite.

The only thing keeping it from being absolutely perfect is Jane's continued nervous energy.

Loki is obviously aware of it too, given he sat himself down right next to her in the booth when they arrived, and he glances over at her with gentle amusement every time she fidgets, her side brushing against his.

To his credit, he does his best to distract her with conversation. He asks her what it is like, living by herself and having to do all her own tasks of daily living – and he seems genuinely interested in her answers. Living on one's own with no servants must be very new and alien to him.

To be fair, Jane tries to put some of the focus back on him. "Would you mind very much telling me about the Bifröst? The real one, I mean?"

Loki shakes his head regretfully. "Alas, there is not much I can convey. It is fuelled by magic, this much you will surely have guessed, but the mechanics of that magic would be difficult for me to explain."

"Because I'm not a magic-user?" Jane asks.

"Partly. But also because I am not at all familiar with such workings. The Gatekeeper -Heimdall- is the one to whom you would need to direct your query. I would possibly be able to explain to you how to cast illusions and such, if I could get you to grasp the fundamentals of magic and how it can be bent to one's will. But even that, I suspect, would prove difficult. And unlike illusions, the Bifröst is quite outside my area of…expertise."

They pause as the waiter brings their desserts – crème brulée for her, tarte tatin for him – and Loki takes a bite, chews appreciatively, and then changes the subject. "Now, have you given any thought to my question regarding which fantasies of yours you will wish me to indulge?"

Jane nearly chokes on her fork. What is it with him and asking embarrassing questions in restaurants?

She gives a short laugh. "I haven't really had the time, to be honest. Between moving and now this Stark thing…well, I've had a lot on my plate." Her brief debate with herself in the Pinz hadn't yielded any actual fantasies, after all, so she's not exactly _lying_ to Loki.

"How disappointing," he sighs, but he's eyeing her cleavage in a way that doesn't match his tone.

"What's wrong with just having…I don't know, _standard_ fantasies?" She drops her voice and glances around, but no one seems to be paying any attention to them. "Tying me up, spanking me, and covering me with snakes is not arousing enough for you?"

He inclines his head, smirking. "I am not saying they are not enjoyable. But sometimes adding yet another layer to such an activity adds…_spice_." He licks his fork, and it seems to Jane to be a suggestive motion.

"You must realize, of course," he continues, "that I have existed a long time. _Millenia_, compared to you. I have bedded many women – and the occasional man – and so I have learned much about the myriad ways of pleasing partners from various Realms. This is not about me being bored, it is about _you_ being bored."

Jane shakes her head. "I'm not bored. Not even close!"

He studies her face closely, his eyes narrowed. "No, not bored, perhaps. But you are _occupied_. I can see it clearly this night. Whenever we are not speaking, your thoughts race. Your life's work has its own seductiveness. It does not easily let you go."

"It's not a competition," Jane says.

"No, perhaps not. But I rather think that if I do not totally satisfy and exhaust you tonight, you will not sleep," he predicts. It reminds her of the SHIELD jail, when he'd said something similar.

Jane flinches in surprise as his hand closes on her leg. The dress only comes to mid-thigh, and his fingertips flirt with the edge.

Red stains her cheeks. "Loki!" she chides him, trying to push his hand away. She may as well try to push Stark Tower over with her bare hands, but at least his hand doesn't advance any further up her thigh.

He shakes his head slightly and shifts over to press his side fully against hers, folding his lean arm around her bare shoulders. "No one shall see us. Unless you _want _them to."

Jane shakes her head – there's that exhibitionist streak in him again – "You couldn't leave a tip large enough to cure the trauma," she jokes half-heartedly. She's intensely aware of his hand on her thigh, fingers caressing her skin in tiny precise circles, transmitting warmth into her flesh.

She'll grant that he _is_ right on one point – she's not fixated on anything related to astrophysics at this particular moment.

He leans into her, burying his nose into her hair and breathing deeply, then he presses a soft kiss to the sensitive flesh behind her ear. "If it would make it easier for you, I could start. I could relate to you a few of my desires," he suggests, his voice like gravel wrapped in silk.

Jane shivers, wanting him to stop and wanting him to _not_ stop at the same time. He knows it too, she'd take bets on it.

"For example, I enjoy watching my partners pleasure themselves. I always find it very…educational," he declares. "And there are some playthings - Asgardian, though I am certain there are Midgardian equivalents, like that vibrator of yours- that I have used in the past that certainly have brought joy to many partners." He pauses and cocks his head, watching her face closely. He's enjoying every minute of this, Jane realizes. "Or perhaps lying with me in my female form would be of interest to you?" he continues.

Jane has tried to ignore the heat rising in both her cheeks and her belly during this whole recital, doing her best to remain unmoved, but that last suggestion of his makes her jaw drop. "Wh…_what_?"

His lips brush against her ear and she can feel the curve of his grin against her skin. "I have some ability to shift my shape. Oh, it is _limited_ – I cannot take forms significantly larger or smaller than myself. But to alter my own appearance, and to change gender, those are nothing." He traces his fingers lightly along her shoulder, and Jane shudders, goosebumps rising on her arms. "But be assured, my Jane, such are only suggestions. I do not _expect_ you to participate. Do so only if it is something which interests you as well."

Jane shakes her head again, tongue momentarily tied. She settles for chuckling nervously, finally managing to answer with: "Maybe I should be worried about boring _you_."

His teeth graze her neck just above the necklace, and she has to silence a gasp. "I do not think that possible, little one," he insists, nuzzling under her ear. "Oh, perhaps if you were one of those partners who insists on only the most _gentle_ of acts, and always in the same place and position and with never any variation, well yes, that would certainly pose a risk." He finally leans back and flashes her a leering grin. "But I think we have already well-established that you too would be bored by such repetitiveness."

Jane blushes (you'd think her cheeks would be tired of it by now), but it's the truth. "Got me," she admits, smiling a little despite her mixed emotions.

"Oh _yes_, that I do," he purrs, his arm tightening around her as he leans in again. "Now, where was I?" he continues as she squirms, her tension rising again. "Oh yes – some other ideas. There are a few…scenarios that some past partners have enjoyed playing with me that perhaps you would also enjoy. For example, not too long ago in Midgard's history – though I suppose that is only in my estimation – it was not uncommon for those courting my favour to offer me a _sacrifice_." He pulls back to he can assess her reaction to that.

Jane laughs and covers her burning face with her cold hands. "I don't think I fit the bill. If you mean virgin sacrifices, I'm way past that, as you yourself know! And nobody would ever consider _me_ beautiful enough to tempt a 'god'-"

In answer his hand moves up her thigh a bare inch, silencing her. "You already have, my dear," he points out. "Two gods, in fact," he adds, and Jane can't argue with that. "But to continue our discussion, sometimes past partners of mine enjoyed it when I…shared them with another. Tell me Jane, have you ever had more than one partner attempt to please you, at the same time?"

Jane thinks her jaw has dropped low enough to almost impact the floor this time. Loki has always struck her as borderline possessive, given that whole 'You are _mine_' business, so this is really the last thing she'd expect him to fantasize about.

"You have _got_ to be kidding me," she mutters. "I have enough trouble maintaining relationships with one person, let alone two. Or more!"

He shakes his head and the corner of his mouth quirks in a smile. "Not a relationship. Another…_arrangement_."

"I…don't know if I could do that. If I would feel safe," she says, but she can feel the lie between her legs.

It seems that while her brain feels one way, her body is more than willing to try anything Loki suggests.

"I would not violate the trust between us by bringing in someone whom I was not absolutely sure would treat you excellently," Loki asserts, his bright eyes locked on her reddened face. "As I've said before, my goal is _your_ pleasure."

"Please, Loki, can we not talk about this here?" Jane begs. It feels like every ounce of blood in her body is trying to cram itself into her blushing face. Surely the people around them will have noticed their intense, sexually-charged embrace by now and will be watching, though Jane doesn't dare look around to verify that.

"Why not? It is obviously exciting you." His fingertips gently stroke the inside of her thigh.

She whimpers as he kisses her hard, tongue slipping against her lips. She tells herself she should resist, that this is _not_ the time or place, even as she allows him entry. His hand slips behind her neck, the pads of his fingers making slow caressing circles over the muscles, and the hand between her legs tugs lightly, spreading her legs wider.

She breaks the kiss, trying not to pant. "Maybe," she retorts raggedly, trying to throw him off, "one of my fantasies is to dominate _you_."

He laughs with delight against her mouth, and she swallows a groan as his teeth lightly pinch her lower lip. "You did please me thoroughly the last time I allowed you to subjugate me. So indeed I see no reason to deny you – nor I – such a thing. But in a future session, perhaps. For the time being, I prefer to retain control."

He takes her mouth with another deep, breath-stealing kiss. When he finally lets her go, he leans his forehead against hers, his breath falling hot and soft on her face. She's never realized before how long and dark his eyelashes are.

"I can feel your internal struggle," he says in a low soothing voice, "and it is so unfortunate and unnecessary. You Midgardians have such bizarre ideas about the simple act of intercourse. That your males may bed whomever they choose, and as many as they can. Indeed, they are encouraged to! Whereas your females may only sleep with a few carefully chosen partners, or be labeled as wanton. Or worse. Oh, you tell yourselves things have _changed_, and for the better, but I personally am not convinced that your attitudes as a people have changed that much. Your battle against your needs at this very moment gives the proof."

Jane raises a brow. "You're not as ignorant of our culture as you led me to believe," she accuses him. His hand moves just a little higher on her thigh and she finds her hand on top of it again, trying to stop him. Again, he doesn't push past her resistance.

"There are many things I know," he allows. "But many more that I do not. But let us not change the subject. Midgardian women are not encouraged to fully explore and express their sexuality. Oh, your entertainment media are brimming with sexuality – too much of it, even! - but how you live your own lives is completely opposite. Take this moment, for example. What harm could there be in allowing me to _touch_ you?" His hand on her leg squeezes gently.

"It's the same reason why I don't want to have phone-sex with you at my lab!" she sputters.

He chuckles. "Surely they are not the same. There, I will grant you, Lady Darcy could stumble upon and interrupt the proceedings at any time. And no doubt that would create some discomfort between you, I will admit."

Jane shakes her head. "You _think_? Besides, we humans have a saying: 'You don't mix business and pleasure.'"

Loki inclines his head. "A fair point. So, no playing at your place of work. But here? None knows or cares who we are. Or truly, what we are doing. If we are careful." His grin is predatory. "In fact, it would be a simple matter for me to cast an illusion over us. Our fellow patrons will be none the wiser. No different than when you allowed me to have my way with you in that SHIELD dungeon."

Jane swallows hard but still feels very nervous about the whole thing. Even if the other people can't see, _she_ would know. "I don't know. It's just not something I _do_. I'm just not that brave." She gives a short, uneasy laugh.

"Might I suggest, respectfully, my dear one," Loki urges, "that you would do better to apply several new rules to yourself? I am a God, not one of the foolish Midgardian males who passed up the chance to claim you. Could you perhaps at least consider _trying _those acts which you are somewhat unsure or uneasy about? If they do not cause you enjoyment, we need not ever try them again. But it is hardly logical to dismiss them out of hand, merely because they offend some misguided sense of propriety that was forced upon you by upbringing."

Jane tries to think, but it's hard to keep her rational brain going when he's this close to her, his scent all around her and his warm hand stroking her leg.

"I suppose, fine. _Yes_." she says, somehow thinking that might get him to back off, or to slow down, to buy her some time.

Wrong.

His lips skate across her ear. "If I might make a further suggestion, it would be this: If something feels good to you, do not stop it. You may have been reared to deny yourself pleasure, but that is entirely irrelevant. You can set those attitudes aside if you choose to." As if to illustrate his point, his hand tries to slip up her leg once more, and hers tightens around his again.

He turns his hand, grasping her sweaty one gently. "You see?" he says, "This is exactly what I am speaking of. Am I hurting you?"

"N-no," Jane whispers. She can already feel her resistance crumbling. Loki's words do have a kind of twisted logic, damn him to hell.

"Are you enjoying my touch?"

Jane closes her eyes tight. "Yes," she admits.

"Whose judgment is it that you fear? These other mortals around us are nothing to you and me. And I will see to it that they will be unable to notice what is transpiring between us. In fact-" There is a pause, and Jane imagines Loki gesturing. "It is done, though we will still need to be rather _quiet_."

Eyes still shut, Jane admits softly, "Maybe it's _your_ judgment I'm afraid of."

He makes a sound of negation. "In that case, fear nothing. I have seen and catered to desires and wants of all kinds in my long years, and have indulged many of my own. It is a poor bedmate indeed, who is imprudent enough to judge his partner negatively for the things that arouse her."

He turns her face to his and kisses her, his hair tickling her face as his tongue strokes along hers. "You want to yield to me completely, I can tell," he says after pulling away. "I can feel your heart racing-" his fingers graze the side of her neck, following along the edge of his gift to her- "I can _scent _it on you. Do not give such battle to your desires. Let them loose."

Trembling, she makes her decision. One, she tilts her chin up, giving him access to all the places on her neck and throat that he knows she enjoys him kissing. Two, she releases her grip on his hand, and voluntarily opens her legs just a fraction wider.

It's insane, utterly insane what she's letting him do – no, what she's _encouraging_ him to do! – but she doesn't care about that anymore. How many times has she wished she'd taken more chances in her personal and sexual life? Too many to count.

She doesn't want her fears to get in the way. If she'd allowed fear to stop her, would she have made the same gains in other areas of her life, such as with the Einstein-Rosen Bridge? Not likely.

"Yessss," he purrs encouragingly. "Place your faith in me, my Jane."

He practically attacks her neck with tongue and teeth, and Jane bites her lip hard against the whimpers rising in her throat. She fists a hand in his soft black hair and digs the fingers of her other hand into the banquette, thigh muscles tensing under his hand as it strokes slow circles up her leg.

What he'll do when he reaches her panties, she doesn't know. But the thought of what he _might_ do both alarms and excites her.

What he does do is lightly scratch a blunt nail along the edge of her panties, along the crease where thigh and torso meet, and Jane gasps into his mouth and writhes, certain she's leaving damp marks on the seat beneath her.

His knuckles brush against the fabric that separates his flesh from hers, then his thumb circles her clit through the thin cloth. He muffles the noises that wrenches out of her with his mouth, then he pulls away completely, a calculating look on his face.

Jane blinks, now confused and aroused beyond believing. She swipes her hair out of her flushed face and frowns at him. "What are-?"

"Your inner garment is in my way," he says matter-of-factly. "Shall we remove it?"

It feels like all the blood has now rushed _out_ of Jane's face. "You want me to take my panties off?" she asks, her voice low and shocked.

He smirks. "Is that not what I said? Yes. And be quick about it, lest I rip them asunder in my impatience to please you."

"Loki," she whispers desperately, glancing fearfully around the room before she remembers his illusion. So much for her attempt at bravery.

"You agreed to not let your fears give you pause," he points out. "And as you will no doubt recall, under the terms of our arrangement, I am in charge. I am your God and master, and I tell you now: You may go and remove your undergarments in privacy, or I will remove them myself, right here and right at this moment." His eyes challenge her, gleaming diabolically.

Stiffly, Jane slides to the end of the booth and gets to her feet. Her knees feel weak and trembly, and the click of her heels sound like gunshots to her. Surely everyone is staring _now_,illusion or not?

She manages somehow to make it to the bathroom, which is mercifully unoccupied. She stares at her face in the mirror. She's flushed and a corner of her lipstick is smudged, her pupils dark and dilated.

_Slut,_ her negative inner voice reprimands.

_Oh yeah? Well, maybe I'm tired of being the good girl. When did toeing the line ever get me anywhere?_

Like Loki has pointed out so logically (and Jane loves logic, doesn't she?), where's the harm?

She wipes off the rest of her lipstick before Loki smudges it all away anyway (Is it smeared on his mouth? The notion makes her smile), she splashes water on her rosy face, and she pops into a stall and takes off her panties. Then she stops.

She has no purse, no bag. Where the heck is she supposed to put these?

But Loki is _waiting_, so Jane just washes her hands as quickly as she can and balls the panties up in her fist. Nobody else comes in, thank God.

Taking a deep breath and steeling herself, she pushes open the door. Loki's dessert plate is bare and he's stealing a bite of hers when Jane gets back to their table.

She scoots over next to him again and shoots him a dark glance. "That's _my_ dessert," she informs him sharply.

He licks the spoon and eyes her up and down. "So it is. Finish yours, and then I will continue _mine_." His eyes dance.

She finishes the crème brulée as slowly as she dares, savouring it and the anticipation, even as her nerves crank tighter. At least Loki takes pity on her and instead of fixating his intense, hungry stare on her, he scans the room nonchalantly instead, though his hand remains on the back of her neck, idly tracing distracting little patterns over and over.

Jane finishes the last delicious bite, and Loki is curling his arm around her and invading her personal space before she's even finished pushing the plate away.

"Now, where were we?" he says conversationally, and Jane giggles nervously. "Did you do as instructed?"

Wordlessly, Jane holds up her left hand. "I had nowhere to put them-"

"A minor inconvenience," he says, taking them from her. He then folds them neatly on her lap…and then sticks them into the pocket of his blazer like a handkerchief.

_Holy crap._ "What are you- You really _do_ want me to die of embarrassment, don't you?" Jane accuses him. At least they're black and fairly plain-looking. Pink butterflies and lace would stand out a lot more against his suit.

He raises a brow. "Always so quick to assign murderous intent to me?" he asks reprovingly. "No. You would not make nearly as many arousing noises if you were dead. Besides, do you not recall? None are able to bear witness right now, I saw to that."

He aborts her reply with lips and tongue and teeth, his hand sliding around her throat. It traces the edge of the snake necklace as he kisses her, before he puts his hand back under the tablecloth. "Spread your legs, little minx," he demands, his breath searingly hot on her cheek.

She does, her breath stuttering as he bunches her dress up around her waist and hooks her knee over his to spread her even wider. His other hand slips down her side, fingers grazing the side of her breast lightly. Jane squeezes her eyes shut as blood slams into her cheeks again. Nobody may be watching, assuming Loki is even telling her the truth about his illusion, but old habits die hard it seems.

His hand slides up the inside of her leg aggressively. He's not taking any prisoners this time, apparently. Then Jane blinks as his hand slides back down to her knee. Not what she expected – surprise surprise.

"Such soft, lovely skin," he hums in her ear.

"Thank you," she replies in a low voice, fisting his shirt with one hand and digging the nails of her other hand into the cushion of the banquette again.

"You have no idea," he continues, "How badly I want to tear the rest of your garments from you, lay you out on this table, and slowly savour the perfume and salt of your womanhood."

Jane clenches her jaw tightly to prevent the loud gasp that wants to escape. He won't, she's pretty sure he won't. "If this world domination thing doesn't work out for you, I think you may be able to have a solid career as a phone sex worker," she observes saucily, even as the drawn-out war between desire and modesty continues to rage within her.

He laughs silkily in her ear, then takes her mouth in another searing kiss, his hand still stroking her inner leg, teasingly slow, up and down. She doesn't even realize she's squirming, her body practically begging him. Her brain might be split, wanting and _not_ wanting, but her flesh only wants one thing – him, inside her. Now.

Her muscles pulse and spasm, the heat inside her becoming nearly unbearable. "Please," she begs him. "Please, Loki, I need-" her throat closes on the last few words as she battles herself, but he shows her some mercy at last.

"Of course, my love," he answers, pulling her head into his shoulder to muffle her noises as he finally brushes his fingers against her wet curls. She shudders and her hips buck, her legs spreading even wider apart of their own accord.

Loki's teeth graze her collarbone, one hand squeezing her tight to him to hold her squirming body still as he explores her freely, dipping between the slickened folds. But he doesn't touch her clit, and Jane grinds her teeth, caught between delight and frustration.

She drops her hand to rub it over the straining bulge in his pants, and he hisses but doesn't relent. He works a single finger inside her, slowly and deliberately, and though Jane's head rolls back limply on her neck he cups the back of her skull with his free hand and pulls her face back to his, devouring her soft cries as the hand between her legs thrusts slowly in and out.

He pauses his motions only long enough to spill more dirty words in her ear. "How hard your nipples are," he whispers. "I can see them pressing eagerly against your clothes. How I want to strip them bare and taste them, _bite_ them right now." He bites her earlobe instead, though not very hard. His lewd words whip the inferno inside her higher, and Jane feels her control slipping. She wants to whimper and gasp and keen, and to do it _loudly_.

She's so close, she realizes dimly short moments later, sweat beading on her face and neck, heat gathering all over her body. If he just touches her clit, right now, she'll almost certainly-

Instead, he withdraws his hand from her, letting it rest stickily on her knee. His other hand is still on the back of her neck, making slow soothing circles in the damp hair at her nape. Jane shakes her head like a wet dog, her thoughts scattered, her entire body throbbing, aching with _need_.

"Loki, _please_," she says, not even really aware of what she's saying.

"Oh, I'm not done with you yet, woman. Be most assured of _that_. Do you wish a moment to cleanse yourself before we leave?"

It seems to take Jane a long while to process what he'd said. "Sure, OK, just- just a second."

She starts to slide off the banquette, but he catches her wrist. "You are not allowed to bring yourself to climax in there," he says sternly. "If you try to satisfy yourself without my bidding, be also assured that I _will _know….and I will be forced to punish you most severely."

Jane shakes her head numbly. "Yeah, OK. I wasn't- wasn't even thinking of that."

Satisfied, he nods and releases her, but she can feel him _watching_ her as she totters back to the restroom.

She cleans herself up as best she can, splashes more water on her face and rakes her damp hair back with her fingers.

Yes, she is _so_ not thinking about anything to do with bridges or Tony Stark right now. Clever, kinky Loki.

He's standing in front of their table when she returns, taking her hand wordlessly. He doesn't even wait til they're outside; they're back in her apartment and he is scooping her up effortlessly into his arms before Jane knows what hit her.

Her logical brain is still trying to get back in the game – force of habit, maybe – and it poses the logical question: Did Loki pay for their meal? And if so, did he pay them in Asgardian gold? Jane has to giggle at the mental image of the perplexed waiter accepting a handful of coins.

Loki deposits her carefully on her bed, but adds to Jane's confusion when he doesn't join her. Instead, he uses his magic to slide a chair from the living room across the floor and to the foot of her bed, and he settles into it. He pulls off his dress shoes and stretches his long legs diagonally across a lower corner of her mattress. He looks like someone who's about to settle in to watch a movie-

"Tell me whose you are," he demands, his eyes dark and ravenous.

Jane blushes all over again – oh yes, you'd definitely think her skin would be tired of that response by now – but her voice is strong and steady when she answers. "Yours." Impishly, she can't resist adding: "And you are _mine_."

He half-smiles at that, but his eyes still smoulder darkly. He reaches up the bed and slips each shoe off her foot, his touch lingering warmly, and then his gaze becomes cunning.

"Pull your dress up around your waist," he orders.

Jane shakes her head slightly and bites her lip, obeying slowly.

"Don't be shy, my lovely one," he encourages her. "I have seen every inch of you before…and now I want to see again."

Jane gradually pulls her dress up, very aware that she's still wearing no panties. His intense gaze makes her want to squirm. She needs to level the playing field, just a little. "And I want to see _you_," she demands. She's exposed while he's covered up from neck to toe...déjà vu all over again.

"Do you?" he asks. "Well then, I shall make you a proposal, Jane Foster of Midgard. Show me how you pleasure yourself, and I will allow you to do the same with me."

Jane starts shaking her head almost by reflex alone. "Look, I, uh…I'm not used to doing things like this, OK? I'm not sure I can-"

"Not sufficient? Hm, perhaps I need to make it easier for you in a different fashion," he replies. He pulls the scarf from around his neck, balls it up and tosses it between her spread legs. "Blindfold yourself. Then you will not see me watching you."

Jane stares down at the scarf for a long moment.

"Or," Loki says regretfully, "I could merely hold you in my arms for the remainder of the evening. Perhaps you are not in fact interested in bedding me tonight." He stands.

"No!" Jane says, her previously-cheated lust rising to the fore again. Before she can change her mind, she wraps the scarf around her eyes and ties it firmly into place.

She can hear the creak of him sitting down again. And then the rasp of a zipper going down. "You will forgive me, I trust, if I attend to myself regardless?" he asks, his tone teasing.

"No- I mean, yes. Sure," Jane stammers.

"I thank you, my love. Please begin," he says.

Jane bites her lip, spreading her legs a bit wider, digging her nails into the soft bedspread.

"More," he says softly. "Let me see all."

She does, slowly. Then freezes, a blinded deer in the headlights.

There's a long, heavy silence.

"Truly, you are entirely a prisoner of your upbringing," Loki says, and she can tell he's shaking his head just by the reproaching tone in his voice. "Would it be easier for you if I direct you?"

Jane swallows with difficulty. "I guess so."

His next words are clipped, commanding. "Open your dress. Now."

Jane does, feeling inexplicably relieved.

"Now remove your breast-binding."

She takes her dress off completely, then the bra, tossing both away. She's not sure why this is easier for her, but it is. She's still on display, but her audience is hidden, and she is doing _his _bidding, not revealing herself. But what would be so bad about revealing how she likes to touch herself?

She doesn't know the answer to that question.

She hears him shift in the chair. Is he stroking himself? She tries to picture it in her mind.

"Caress yourself," is his next order. "Start at your throat. Then slide your hands down."

Her hands are chilly when she tilts her head back on the pillows and allows her fingertips to stroke down the sides of her neck. She lets them skim along her collarbones, then down the top of her chest, finally reaching the starting swells of her breasts.

"Cup yourself," he commands, and she does.

"Your nipples are already tight, my dear. Do they ache to be touched?"

Jane whimpers a little. "Y-yes."

"Good. Do so. Tease them."

Driven by need, she pinches and tugs each nipple, lightly at first, and then harder. Her hips twist against the bed and she feels growing wetness between her legs.

"Lovely," he says in an approving growl, which spurs Jane to roll her nipples between her fingers, to wriggle down a little further on the bed. Her pulsebeat races, and she can feel the heat climbing through her, gathering now in her chest and face as well as in her belly and core.

"Now slide your hands lower."

She does, after giving each nipple a final squeeze. She sweeps each hand down either side of her belly, brushing over the slight rise of her navel, and finally stops, each hand caressing the little creases on either side of her sex.

"Wider," he rumbles urgently. "I want to _see_, I told you."

Jane doesn't even hesitate to comply. It doesn't even seem to matter any longer if it's her hands or his. She aches and she _needs_.

She spreads her thighs as wide as she comfortably can.

"Much better, my wanton little vixen. Now part those lovely petals and show me _all _as you please yourself.

She whimpers but obeys again. She's soaking and slippery, her head tilting back on the pillows once more and her breath caught in her throat as she follows the edges of each fold, then strokes tiny circles on the inner surface of each. She starts to slip her fingers up towards her clit-

"No," he barks, voice like a lash. "Place those fingers inside you instead. I will attend to the centre of your pleasure…when it suits me."

Christ, he's _evil_. Fleetingly, she considers disobeying, but pushing two fingers deep inside herself feels good enough for the moment. She moves them in and out quickly, though she stops sometimes to rub them against sensitive places on her inner walls.

Blinded behind the scarf, she loses herself to pleasure, forgetting where she is and that anyone is watching. Forgetting even his command, her thumb slips across her swollen little bud, and she shudders, right at the edge of the abyss-

He catches her wrist instantly and stills her hand. "I-I'm sorry," she stutters, realizing too late her mistake. He's naked to the waist now – when did that happen? – and she can feel his warm flesh pressed against her hot damp skin.

He leans to her ear, soft hair brushing over her face and cheek. "I am sure you are. And I am loathe to punish you when you are working so hard to please me. You have no idea," he adds in a lower, even more intimate tone, "how beautiful you are right now."

Jane's not sure what to say to that. "Uh, thank you?"

"Hm," is his answer. A second later she can feel him moving on the bed, probably kneeling between her legs, and he gently tugs her fingers out from inside her…and puts them into his mouth instead. Jane moans as he sucks and licks her hand clean. When he slides his tongue between each finger, Jane could swear she feels it between her legs instead, and she whimpers again. "Please," she groans.

He laughs softly. "Begging already?" She feels his weight shift over to one side of the bed, but he doesn't release her hand.

Jane blinks in surprise as he starts to wind a rope around her wrist. There's no magical snakes-into-ropes trick this time, no holding her down just by magic. No, this feels like a conventional rope, and he's taking his time, winding it unhurriedly around her limb, making sure it isn't too tight, and then securing her arm to the bedframe.

He moves across her, chest brushing across her stiff nipples, and does the same thing to her other wrist. "You must think me so cruel," he comments softly as he binds her, "making you wait. But the rewards will be great."

Jane's throat works but nothing intelligible forms in her head. He kisses her gently, then moves to bind her ankles to each corner of the bed in the same leisurely, almost relaxed fashion.

She can feel the heavy bulge of him pressing into her thigh as he leans over her again. He's still wearing his pants, and Jane tries to brace herself for more slow teasing torture.

"Loki, please," she groans again. _How can he still smell like leather when he isn't wearing any?_ her distracted brain asks.

"Hush," he kisses her forehead, her cheeks, her lips. His weight shifts and he presses a kiss into the palm of one of her imprisoned hands, then more slow, wet kisses trail down her arm, right down to a breast.

She arches as much as she can into his touch, as he nips and suckles lightly on one nipple, his hand toying with the other.

He slips down even further, and Jane can't stop a sigh of relief when he settles between her helpless legs. Surely _now_ he'll touch her, tease her clit, let her come-

But there's only a single soft swipe of his tongue along the entrance to her body, and then he is off the bed completely. Jane groans out a couple choice curses, and then a few new ones she makes up on the spot just for the occasion. She can feel sweat trickling down her temples and under her arms, the ache between her legs throbbing painfully. He's going to kill her with frustration, that's all there is to it.

She hears him leave the room, and Jane tugs hard on her bonds, confused and now a little nervous as well. What is he up to?

She's pretty sure she hears the door to the apartment open and then close again after a long moment, and she stiffens. That…can't be good. Did he leave her like this, helpless and alone?

But no, there's a rustle of cloth back at the foot of the bed, and then Loki circles around to the side, sitting on the edge and leaning over her.

"My dear Jane," he says, his voice taking on a velvety note, "I promise I will see to your needs. But first, I wish you to yield to me completely. To do something we spoke of earlier this night." Gentle fingers trace the slope of her breast then flick lightly at her nipple, and Jane groans.

She furrows her brow, struggling to remember despite the distraction he's providing. To let him turn female and have sex with her? To use one of his Asgardian toys? Honestly at this point she thinks she'll agree to anything, if he'll just let her finally fucking _come._

"Yes, yes, goddamn it," she says, before her brain can stop her mouth. "Please, just don't tease me any-"

That's when a _second_ pair of hands touches her. They settle firmly on her inner thighs, stroking.

Jane shrieks in surprise and jerks against her bonds, but she can't escape. Her eyes open wide, uselessly pleading behind the blindfold. She's totally naked and open and exposed, at the mercy of Loki and…a stranger.

"Loki," she speaks shakily around the lump in her throat, "please, I can't-"

"But you _agreed_, my love," he points out, his tone reasonable and soothing. He rolls her nipple gently and leans down, lips feathering across her ear.

Jane is quaking now, adrenaline coursing through her system. She tries to block out the sensation of the hands on her legs, still caressing her, and of Loki's hand still playing with her breast, trying to _think_. "Not fair-" she argues. "I didn't know what I was agreeing to!"

"Are you resisting because you are afraid of harm, or resisting because _you think that you should_? If it is the former, fear nothing," he says softly, his hand smoothing wet strands of hair away from her face and neck. "As I said earlier, I would never select any partner whom I believed capable of harming you in any way. In fact, I have informed my 'ally' of the techniques which will best please you, and what manner of things you do _not _enjoy. And if it is the latter, that you are resisting because of your upbringing, well…we discussed that at length earlier. Have you not enjoyed yielding to me thus far this night?"

Jane's voice shakes, but she's not going to start lying now. "Yes," she admits softly.

"This is a challenge for you, but it is no different than anything else we have done this night. Or indeed, any _other _bedgame that we have played so far."

He's right, of course. How many times has he pushed close to her limits? Covering her with snakes, hunting her through an illusory forest, having sex with her on a dream-throne while a dream-Thor watches, seducing her and binding her in the SHIELD jail?

He's probably thinking of the same acts.

"One constant remains: I have never harmed you. Nor do I intend to start now. So, show me that your trust in me is total; surrender yourself completely to us." He presses kisses along the line of her jaw, even as the other person's hands caress her softly, moving up her trembling legs.

_I trust him, I _do_,_ she thinks. _But this…this is…_If she says no, he'll stop, she knows he will. But does she really want him to? How many other opportunities will she have to do something so wild and, well, _different _from how she normally acts?

"What is your decision, my dear?" Loki asks. His hand is cupping her breast, and his other arm must be braced on the pillows over her head; she can feel his fingers lightly caressing her hair. He exhales against her damp neck, and the coolness makes her want to squirm.

She turns her head blindly towards him. "You'll stop if I want you to? If I change my mind later?" she asks, voice still weak and shaky.

He kisses her. "Of course, my Jane. That also is constant. Does that mean you are agreeing, then?"

"Yes," she replies softly. Then she tilts her head back, offering up her neck. Offering _everything_.

He growls something low against her throat, teeth pressing into her skin, though not hard enough to mark her. Every nerve in Jane's body seems to come alight, hypersensitive to every touch as the _other_ hands slide to either side of her throbbing core.

Loki shifts lower, both hands now holding her breasts and pressing them together so he can move easily from nipple to nipple, suckling hard on each one, and Jane bucks and makes a strangled noise as the other hands between her legs splay her folds apart, and a fingertip circles her clit slowly, deliberately.

Fingers fill her, stimulate her, and something slick – tongue, thumb, she doesn't even know – finally, _finally_ gives her what she needs, massaging her clit. Every muscle inside and outside clenches and strains, and a long keen is pulled from her lungs as she comes so hard she nearly blacks out.

She's still panting and shuddering, slumped against her bindings when Loki speaks again. "Did you enjoy that, my dear?" She manages somehow to nod. "Good. But my ally and I barely got to _taste _you. We must rectify that."

They move around her, until Jane is no longer sure which is Loki and which is….who could he have brought in? Who does he trust _that _much?

_Thor?_ her brain asks. But she pushes that thought away. Even if it's true that Thor would never ever hurt her, she's sure Thor is the _last_ person in the universe whom Loki would want to share her with.

Four hands take possession of her, driving all logical thought away. They stroke her all over with gentle fingers, and soon Jane is squirming and straining again.

They do not speak, but somehow they coordinate their efforts; one mouth claims hers in a feverish kiss while the other nips and nibbles the side of her neck.

They switch their posts, and then they attend to her breasts, warmth and wetness bathing each nipple at the same time, and Jane writhes, overwhelmed.

Jane's felt something akin to this before, when Loki caressed her entire body with his illusory snakes. This is similar, if only just slightly less overstimulating. Too many pleasure-signals are crowding into her brain, shutting down all higher thought, turning her into one writhing, twisting, drowning collection of sensation.

The twin mouths nip hard and then soothe the pain away with gentler touches, their hands roaming all over her, exploring and testing, teasing. She's almost grateful that her sight is gone, and that the only sounds are of her noises, plus the occasional wet noise of a mouth on her skin, the muted dry noise of flesh rubbing against flesh…she's in full-on sensory overload as it is.

One solid male body shifts down and settles between her thighs, and the other stations itself around the level of her hips. She's not sure she's ever been so wet before.

"I see you are enjoying our attentions," Loki's voice drifts up to her, but she's not sure which of her partners is him. A gentle fingertip slips along her folds, spreading the slickness around, and her hips jerk.

They resume working her, and Jane's nails dig into her palms, her spine going rigid at the sensation of not one, but two famished mouths on her. One tongue twirls around her clit, pressing and lapping, and another mouth is lower, at the entrance to her body, licking her, slipping into her.

Hands spread her folds wider as they tease her relentlessly, and sensation pulses through her entire body, she feels hot and cold at the same time, and finally her entire body freezes – lungs, throat, muscles, skin – everything locked in an arched pose of total ecstasy, before she screams and dissolves into orgasm.

The delirium recedes, but slowly. She's free, her arms and legs no longer bound, but she's as pliable as a rag doll, unable to resist as they pose her the way they want. She's on her side now, one warm body pressed tightly against her back, an erection pressing into the back of her leg like a bar of pulsing steel.

Loki's voice sounds in her ear again. "I would wager you have at least one more climax to give this night," he chuckles, voice low and husky. He's the one behind her, as far as she can tell.

Jane blinks rapidly behind the blindfold, trying to restore some sense to her addled brain.

The stranger is still in bed with them; his body presses against her front, with strong, lean hands trapping her wrists against his belly. She can feel his arousal, too, the head pressed against her fingers, and he's just as turned on as Loki.

"Hold her still while I prepare myself," Loki orders the mystery guest. Jane feels Loki roll away from her, and then there's the familiar sound of foil ripping. She feels a small measure of relief; at least that aspect of their 'arrangement' hasn't changed.

Though an unsettling thought occurs – will Loki allow or demand that she actually have intercourse with the other man, as well? The thought makes her shiver, torn between too many emotions to be able to even identify one.

Loki crowds against her back again, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the side of her neck as his hand pulls her thigh upward. The person in front of her shifts his grip, holding her wrists firmly with one hand while his other slips between her thighs, parting her inner lips to ease Loki's way into her, his palm rubbing against her sweet spot and forcing a moan from her.

Loki thrusts hard into her, pushing her forward into the other man's chest, and Jane makes a noise that sounds rather like a squeal. Loki laughs in her ear and pulls out quickly, before thrusting back inside her just as ruthlessly.

Even if Jane wanted to resist coming again, it would be impossible. The stranger isn't idle, his mouth busy with her breasts, suckling and tugging. And as Jane's cries rise in pitch, his hand continues to rub her clit in firm circles that make her inner muscles clench even tighter around Loki.

She's seconds away from another bout of ecstasy when the stranger pulls his hand away, and Jane wants to shriek in frustration. But just then the blindfold is pulled from her eyes. She squints as she tries to focus. The face of the stranger in front of her is pale, dark-haired.

Oh my God, it's _Loki._

Somehow, he fooled her. It's the stranger who's deep inside her right now, still thrusting but at a less frantic pace-

Jane twists her head back to look over her shoulder at…another _Loki_.

"Wh-what the f-?" She can't even complete the sentence.

Both Lokis laugh. "Forgive me," purrs the one behind her, "but I have waited patiently all night to empty myself into that delectable quim of yours."

_Did he just say…_quim_? _Jane doesn't know whether to laugh or…well, _laugh._

Loki thrusts inside her again and any desire to laugh is washed away. The Loki in front of her now strokes himself, watching hungrily, and then blows Jane's mind completely by positioning himself so the head of his cock is pressed against her clit. He strokes it against her in a way that forces every last rational thought right out of her mind, and as the Loki behind her goes rigid and grunts, releasing his passion at last, the Loki in front of her now presses the underside of his shaft between her legs, thrusting against her belly and stroking his shaft against her clit, and Jane's entire body seems to disappear. There's only spasm and heat and the boundaries between all of their bodies shifting and blending together into one.

Jane floats, blissfully, for a long time. When she opens her eyes at last – heck, she hadn't even realized they had been closed! – there's only one Loki in bed with her now, spooning with her, hands gently massaging her.

Slowly, lethargically, she turns until she can face him. "That was…" she shakes her head.

"Wonderful, dare I hope?" he asks, but smugly, hands caressing her back.

"Hell, _yes_. If you're trying to stop me from building my Bifröst by killing all my brain cells, I'd say that was a pretty effective means."

He snorts derisively. "Hardly. I am sure your intellect is quite safe." He pulls her firmly to him and rolls until she is cradled on his chest.

"That was quite a trick," she says sleepily.

"Indeed," he agrees. "A trick which is useful in more than one setting, I have found," he adds, though he does not elaborate.

"One thing I don't get, though - why bother opening the apartment door? And all that business about 'telling your ally what I like'? Why make me think it was another man-" Jane sits up and glares at him, though it's half-hearted at best. "Oh, I get it. Mind-fucking me."

He smirks. "God of Mischief, my love. I am afraid it comes with the territory."

Jane sighs, but he's right, isn't he? Her brain repeats the litany of things he's done that have tested her limits in the past: Covering her with snakes, hunting her through an illusory forest, having sex with her on a dream-throne…"Can I at least ask _why_?"

His arms tighten around her, draw her back down to him. She feels him shrug as he weighs his words. "Frankly, because I enjoy it. Also, in my vast experience momentary anxiety – a _small _amount – yields great rewards later. Do you deny that the tricks I pulled on you tonight did not add a touch of…spice? Did it not increase your pleasure, once you overcame your fear?"

Jane shakes her head and sighs. "No, I don't deny it. I just don't always find it…comfortable."

He's silent for another long moment. "This is who I am. However, as I also said, if you do not find pleasure in something we are doing, we need not do such again. I am nothing if not adaptable."

Jane shakes her head. "No, I'm not saying to change who you are. But maybe I'd like a little less of a…challenge next time?"

"Understandable. I do not require to play the trickster _all_ the time." His arms squeeze her a little tighter as he smirks down at her.

"You can do pretty much anything, can't you?" she asks. The realism of his clone had been…remarkable.

She can feel his answering shrug. "I am a master of magic and illusion. This you know. Though I admit, if put to it, that I much prefer to use my magic for …pleasurable pursuits, such as this one."

Jane smiles. "Despite the tough moments, I'm not complaining. Overall this was quite a memorable – and _enjoyable_ – celebration. Thank you."

"You are quite welcome." He pulls her up for a deep, slow kiss. "Sleep, my Jane."

That's one order she has absolutely no qualms about obeying.

Two days later Jane finds herself in New York, meeting with Tony Stark at his famed – and still under reconstruction – Stark Tower.

She still hasn't quite worked up the nerve to dress a little more casually, and it amuses her how Pepper gives her a slight nod of approval, while Tony looks equal parts amused and exasperated at her formal dress when they both meet her at the Tower's helipad.

"Dr. Foster," Tony says, shaking her hand. "Glad you could make it. Would you like the ten-cent tour?"

"Sure," Jane says with a grin.

"Then I'll just leave you in Tony's capable hands, if you don't mind," says Pepper. "I have a lot of work to do right now, and besides, I wouldn't want to get in the way of your tech-talk." She shakes hands with Jane, winks at Tony, and then strides away so confidently on her high heels that Jane envies her.

"Doctor?" Tony asks, holding his elbow out for her to take.

"I thought we were on first-name basis," Jane points out, doing just that.

"So we are," he remembers. "Jane, then."

The place is impressive, even if it's still only two-thirds rebuilt, though that only serves to remind Jane that _Loki_'s army had caused the damage.

If he is aware of her discomfort, Tony says nothing. Soon Jane is too delighted to dwell on the negative – the R&D department is a scientist's wet dream. So much space, so many computers, so many technicians…

"Wow, this is amazing!" she gushes, as they turn into another room. She stops dead, looking at the wall of Iron Man suits. He's brought her into his own personal lab space?

"Prototypes," he says almost dismissively, waving at them. "None of them actually work – I keep all of the _successful_ ones at my Malibu beachhouse. Can't bear to trash these ones, though – never know when tinkering with them might give me some new ideas."

Jane nods. "I've got a similar problem with old notes, old equations. You never know, right?"

Tony grins at her. "I'll bet the corners of your lab look like a tornado hit it."

Jane grins right back. "You have no idea. Until I hired Darcy, anyway. She may not get the science, but she knows how to _organize_, when she's motivated enough. Slipping on fallen papers and almost breaking her neck two or three times was enough for her."

"Maybe I should hire her, myself," Tony jokes. "Here, let me show you the room where you'll be working." He leads her to the elevator and they go down about two floors, then turn into a large room. It's at the edge of the Tower and so is ringed by windows, and there's already a whiteboard, a smartboard, and a bank of computers poised and apparently waiting for her.

"Jarvis!" Tony says loudly. "Say hi to our new colleague, Dr. Jane Foster."

"Doctor Foster," says a disembodied voice, its clipped tones eerily reminiscent of Loki's. "Welcome."

"That's Jarvis. He's the resident computer 'round here. You want to run a simulation or plot a planet's gravitational pull or whatever, Jarvis is your man. Well, sort of." Tony pats a bank of monitors almost fondly.

"OK," Jane replies.

"Here, I'll show you the interface. It's pretty user-friendly, though," Tony says, motioning her over.

It _is_ pretty easy. Even Jane, who isn't all that computer-savvy, knows how to talk and gesture after all.

There is one obvious thing missing from these rooms, though. "Can I ask you a question, Mr. Stark?"

"An uncomfortable one, I'd guess," he says, noticing her return to formality.

"It's just that, I kind of expected you might have Loki's portal – from the Battle of Manhattan – here. Or just a simulation of it on the computer? It _was_ a working model, and it could at least give me some idea as to whether I'm on the right track or not."

"SHIELD has it sequestered somewhere, hopefully in several thousand pieces. Honestly, Jane, I don't really like alien tech anyway. I prefer to rely on good ol' All-American know-how. I realize how easy it must be to second-guess yourself, especially after all the other scientists have been making fun of your ideas over the years-"

Jane feels her face turn predictably red. "It didn't help," she agrees. "It's a good thing I'm stubborn."

"Sure is," Tony says. "My Dad used to say the same about me. But anyway, my point is that I don't think you need the alien portal; I'll put my money on you and your theories regardless." He cocks his head. "Can I ask _you_ a probably-uncomfortable question?"

"OK," Jane says cautiously.

"Loki was the one who got Selvig to build him that portal. So why isn't he helping – if not _forcing_ – you?" Tony's question isn't accusing, but his eyes search her face shrewdly.

Jane frowns. "To be honest I…never really thought about that. We don't talk about my work that much, like I told you the other day. To be honest, up until recently I didn't even really _want_ to know what had happened back then, I guess." She shakes her head at how weak that sounds. "He was being…good to me, and I guess I didn't want to face the fact that he'd done evil, and therefore the possibility that the way he was being with me might all be an act. But once I heard him telling his story to Fury-" She stops and shrugs.

"I know how it sounds," she starts to say, resigned to the idea of Tony kicking her out then and there.

But he's shaking his head. "No, no judgment here. Lord knows I've made my share of bad decisions when it comes to relationships – I'm sure Pepper has a _list _of them somewhere."

Jane smiles a little. "Then again, I don't know if Loki really needs to build one for himself," she continues. "He managed to get here somehow from Asgard, even though we know their Bifröst isn't operational yet…._Wait_," Jane says as a new thought occurs to her: "Erik built Loki's portal once, so…couldn't he build it again?" _Would he want to? _asks the doubting little voice.

"SHIELD's tried, trust me. They asked, but Doc Selvig said he didn't remember squat. He tried anyway, I think, for a week or two, once Fury gave him some pep talk about world security or something, but no dice. Rumour is that Loki's magic wiped Doc's memory of those key details after he was released from mind-control. Even if Loki had won the Battle, I doubt he'd want to chance having a single human around who was capable of bringing over reinforcements from Asgard."

Despite the fact that Jane believes in Loki, and believes him – _I do_, she insists to herself – she can't help wondering what would have happened to her had Loki won that day. Would he have razed every country to the ground until he'd found the base in Traunsee where SHIELD had tucked her away? And if he had captured her then, what would have been her fate at his hands?

The negative little voice laughs mockingly. _Not much different from now, maybe? Except he'd have kept you naked (or maybe in a metal bikini, à la Princess Leia) and chained up permanently on your knees. But who knows, probably you'd have_ liked _that._

Jane shoves the thought away and straightens her shoulders. "Well," she tries, keeping her voice calm and bright. "Maybe I should get started, then? As long as you still approve. I wouldn't blame you if you've changed your mind, Mr. Stark."

Tony studies her for a long moment, then smiles. "Like I said, I'll put my money on you. Shall we make arrangements to ship your research equipment and notes over here?"

Jane agrees, and they go to Pepper's office to work out the details, Jane silently reflecting to herself that she has some uncomfortable questions for a certain God of Mischief.

Also a fair share of guilt, because how much would Erik love to be in on this project, now that it might finally end up somewhere – _literally_? She really needs to go talk to him, to try to apologize to him again.

Jane has supper alone that night, her brain once again buzzing with excitement and details to work out. Tony wants Jane and Darcy to work out of Stark Tower, and though Jane had said yes earlier, now she wonders how exactly this will all work.

Darcy probably won't mind moving into Stark Tower for the duration – the furnished apartments Pepper had shown Jane had sure been impressive! – but Jane is less certain. She's just starting to get used to _this_ place. Heck, she hasn't even had a chance to fully unpack yet!

And there's also the problem of Loki.

Jane doesn't feel all that comfortable seeing Loki while under Tony's roof (isn't it the exact place where Loki had been defeated?), and she doubts Loki and Tony will be happy either.

But given neither Fury nor Tony had asked her to stop seeing Loki, Jane figures who or what she does on her own time is her business. She promised not to discuss the specifics of Stark-Foster with Loki, and that's fine, but that's as far as it goes.

After some thought, Jane supposes the best option would be to ask Loki if he is willing to use his teleportation magic to shuttle her between New York and Puente Antiguo each day. It's not ideal, but she thinks he'll like that idea better than only seeing her on weekends, or having to meet on Stark's territory.

She'll need to find a neutral place close to Stark Tower for them to meet up, and for Loki to teleport her to and from…could that work?

As the sky outside darkens, she knows she doesn't want to spend the rest of the night alone. But that means confronting Loki, and now not only does she have some uncomfortable questions for him, but there's also these new working arrangements to negotiate.

Finally she sighs and climbs up to the roof again. The light pollution in Puente Antiguo isn't as bad as in a big city, and she can pick out many of her favourite constellations quickly and easily.

This time she doesn't even need to summon Loki. Five minutes after she settles into her deck chair, there's that change in air pressure that she's become familiar with, and he's folding his tall bulk into the chair next to hers.

It's chilly in the desert at night, and she doesn't protest when he gently pulls her into his lap and wraps his arms around her.

"Another productive day?" he asks, his breath warming the crown of her head.

Jane nods slowly. Best to just jump in right away. Hasn't failed her yet, right? "Can I ask you something, Loki?"

He raises a brow. "Have I ever stopped you before?" he counters calmly.

"It's about the portal you had Erik build," she says quietly. His side stiffens against hers, but his voice sounds almost disinterested when he answers.

"Ask."

"If you know how to build one, why not…do it?"

"But I do _not_ know, my Jane. Like the Bifröst itself, such magic – or science, if you prefer – is beyond me. The knowledge given to Dr. Selvig came directly from the Tesseract itself."

Jane lets out a slow breath. It sounds reasonable to her. "The more I hear about this Tesseract, the happier I am that I never actually got to use it to fuel my Bridge. I'm no judge, but it sounds like the darkest of magic."

Loki shakes his head, hair brushing Jane's cheek. "The Tesseract is not evil. Like all magic, it is neutral. The nature of the magic depends on _who_ uses it."

"OK," Jane says slowly. Again, it seems logical. "Then how did _you_ get here without a Bifröst, if you didn't build your own portal?"

"Yggdrasil is full of hidden pathways, links between one place and the next, bends in space and time. They are not obvious to those without the sight to see them, but to a mage such as I…" Loki shrugs.

Jane nods and snuggles closer to Loki, staring up at the stars wheeling slowly overhead.

"What would you have done if you had won the Battle of Manhattan?" she asks softly after long minutes.

She feels him startle a little at her question. "I would not have. I saw to it."

"But if you had?" she pressed gently. Why does she care so much? Because she wants so badly to hear him say that ultimately he never would have hurt her, regardless of the circumstances under which they first met?

"I would _not_ have. Your Doctor Selvig was there, conveniently poised near the portal to turn it off once someone – even me, surreptitiously, if necessary - prized him from the grip of the staff. Or the metal man with whom you are working would have realized the power in his heart-star is sister enough to the Tesseract's power to close the gate. Perhaps Thor would have found a way to close the gate, or murdered all who came through it. Or," Loki hesitates, as if he can predict her objection, "your Midgardian authorities would have unleashed their weapons on the city. One bomb alone was enough to destroy the source of the Chitauri army. I am sure it would have done much the same on the Midgardian side of the portal."

"And everyone would have died," Jane protests sharply.

Loki gives a long-suffering sigh. "One city lost, but your planet saved. I know that does not please you. Nor would it have pleased me, in truth, but sometimes we must do what is necessary, rather than what is preferable." He shakes his head, then catches her chin and looks her directly in the eyes. "I was forced to leave many things to chance – I had no choice – but in the end, there were many avenues through which my defeat was assured. So no, I will not speculate what I would have done with my victory – it was never to come to pass."

"OK," Jane agrees. "I was…just wondering."

It sounds lame in her ears, but Loki nods and seems satisfied. He pulls her closer, and they stare up at the stars again. Jane wonders if Loki can somehow see Asgard, or would even want to. Is he starting to think of Earth as his home?

Or perhaps a better question is: _Could_ he?

_Speaking of home_- "There's something else we need to talk about. Stark wants me to work in New York for the foreseeable future…"

Jane slinks across the stage, moving her hips in time to the music. The lights glare into her eyes so that she can barely see her audience, but it doesn't matter. _He_ is here again, and he's really the only person she's dancing for.

He's been here every night since she can remember. Dark suit, white shirt, pale skin. Black hair, slicked back but curling at the ends, as if his hair is trying to escape confinement. She's never heard his voice, but those dark eyes speak volumes to her as they watch her gyrations so closely.

She's wearing a schoolgirl outfit for this particular performance. She grasps the pole and swings herself slowly around, then comes to a stop in front of Dark Suit, as she has come to call him in her mind. She twirls a pigtail and pops a button on her white blouse, ignoring the catcalls and whistles from all the other faceless patrons in the audience. They seem to recede and fade, until there's only _him_.

She opens another two buttons, slowly, meeting his eyes as she gets down on her knees and crawls slowly towards him, in time to the slow pulse of the music, her sultry gaze matching his smouldering one.

His gaze tracks down her face, then lower, getting an eyeful of cleavage. She watches the way his tongue darts out to moisten his thin lips.

She crawls forward until she's almost at the edge of the stage, then she sits back on her heels, unbuttoning the shirt completely. Smirking, she tosses it to Dark Suit. He catches it easily, a leer on his handsome face now.

Jane rises and walks slowly back to the middle of the stage, timing each gliding step to the music. She hooks her leg around the pole and spins around it once more, then stops and leans her back on the pole as she lowers the zipper of her little pleated miniskirt slowly.

She drops it on the ground and turns away from the audience, moving her hips in a slow wide circle, making sure Dark Suit gets a good view of her emerald green lingerie before she starts to remove that.

She turns to face the front again, then sashays slowly towards him. May as well give Dark Suit a good close-up view.

Elegantly, he pulls something out of his jacket pocket and holds it up. Smirking, Jane lets him tuck it into the top of her black stocking, noticing how dexterous those pale, long fingers are.

She glances down and notices it's not money, though. _Huh?_

The lights and music suddenly cut out, leaving her in total silence and darkness. She turns, disoriented, and then finds herself alone backstage, not knowing how she got there. Blinking in the dim lighting, she pulls the slip of paper out of her stocking and opens it to reveal a note written in an elegant script: 'May I request the pleasure of a private dance? – Loki'.

The thought of dancing for _him_ makes desire spike in her belly. And just as she thinks it, there she is in the private room. There's a padded chair, but also a padded booth and a small table, and there sits Dark Suit – no, _Loki_ – himself. Slouched in the booth, legs spread wide, and his eyes devouring her every move.

"My lady," he says, inclining his head towards her. Such overblown manners, even when it's obvious from the heat in his gaze and the restless twitch in his hands that he _wants_ her.

She smiles and struts over to stand between his legs. "Loki," she says, tasting the strange name in her mouth. She lets her thigh brush against his, then bends until their faces are level – given his height, even seated, Jane doesn't need to bend very much at all.

She leans to his ear, letting their cheeks graze against each other. "I've seen you around more than once," she whispers. "How long have you been watching me?"

"Long enough to kindle a fire in my loins which only you can extinguish," he purrs roughly. "If you so choose, of course, Jane."

She furrows her brow as she pulls back – did someone tell him her real name? – but she shakes her head as she goes to turn on the music. Something slow, low, and sultry. She decides she doesn't care that he knows her name. He's dangerous, yes, but somehow not in _that _way.

Jane struts slowly back to Loki, placing light hands on his knees and sliding them slowly up along his thighs. His fingers press into the cushions on either side of him, his dark gaze stopped on her cleavage again.

She turns and seats herself in his lap, pressing herself back against the bulge in his pants, moving her hips in tight circles. She flips her hair back, well aware of how it will fall, light and ticklish over his head and face, and she pretends not to notice how his hands are now on her hips, warm and grazing lightly over the bones. The fire banked within her is building fast.

She wheels and faces him again, their faces inches apart. "I don't always take my clothes off in private dances. But I want to, this time. Can I trust you to be a gentleman?"

He laughs softly. "That would depend on your definition of 'gentleman', would it not? If you mean, will I be able keep my hands to myself? Unlikely. If you mean will I make you peak so hard that you will see constellations you never before imagined, then yes. But again, only if you so choose." His eyes glitter dangerously at her, threaten to consume her whole.

Jane swallows hard but she can't deny she wants this. Moth to a flame, and she _wants_ to be consumed.

She doesn't answer him, not verbally, but she walks a pace or two away and reaches behind her, unhooking her bra and tossing it to him. It almost undoes her when he lifts it to his nose and breathes in the scent of her skin, his eyes burning into hers.

"Come here," he says, his voice a gravel-edged purr that makes her want to go to her knees.

So she does, crawling back toward him, though it's more like a prowl. Strong hands wrap around her upper arms like manacles as soon as she is close enough, and she is lifted into Loki's lap as if she is no heavier than a feather.

Rough hands find her breasts as they kiss, rolling and squeezing her nipples, her moans muffled by his tongue. His hands are colder than she expects, and her nipples throb.

He doesn't just break the kiss; he grabs her shoulders and pulls them roughly apart, his teeth scraping her neck hard as he starts kissing (if it could be called that) her neck. Jane moans and twines her fingers in his hair.

He does the same to her, catching her hair and pulling it enough to cant her head back at an almost-uncomfortable angle as his mouth sears its way down her breasts.

He nips each one, then he picks her up with an inhuman speed and puts her down on the room's small table. His eyes rake down her body, lingering on the bruises adorning her neck. Jane feels a sharp tug and gasps, her panties coming apart as he ruthlessly rips them from her.

Loki pulls the table closer to the banquette, then sits down and pulls on her hips until his face is positioned between her quivering thighs. He trails a single finger down the length of her sex, from clit to her entrance. "So very wet for me," he murmurs huskily, barely allowing Jane time to even out her breaths before he buries his head between her legs.

Her head hangs off the edge of the table, her nails digging into cheap wood veneer as he works her hard. He sucks briefly on her clit, over and over, pulling it briefly into his mouth and letting it go each time. Jane pants and twists, but he won't let her escape the agonizing pleasure. Then he takes the little nub in his mouth and sucks on it while flicking his tongue around it, gently at first but then more aggressively, long fingers applying pressure from inside her, and noise spills from her arched throat.

He stops just as her muscles start to tighten. "Not yet," he snarls. "I want to feel your body clench around me." Jane struggles to raise her head as there is the unmistakable rasp of a zipper going down, but her neck muscles are too weak.

A strong hand wraps around the back of her neck, supporting her head and pulling her closer to him as he pushes hard inside her. She cries out and his gaze shifts from their joining to her face, scorching her like burning embers.

He shoves inside her, over and over, one hand still around her neck like a collar, the other reaching between them to play with a nipple here, to press her clit there, and she can't stop her climax even if she wanted to, waves of fire racing through her, building, cresting-

As she falls screaming over the edge she realizes he was right – she _is_ seeing stars-

Jane wakes sweaty and disoriented, blinking at the darkness around her. She first notices the headboard of the bed – _her_ bed, she realizes, as sanity returns – then she fumbles for her watch under the pillow. 3:02am. She turns and looks to her side, expecting the bed to be empty of anyone except her.

But no, a pale, firmly-muscled chest meets her gaze. Loki hasn't left, he's still here, and he seems to be asleep. His face is more relaxed, vulnerable, and calm than it ever is when he's awake. There's something so sad about that.

She resists the urge to touch him and disturb that peace. Unless- is he faking? Her dream comes back to her with a clarity that makes her tingle.

He had invited her to come up with fantasy scenarios for them to enact, and now here she is, dreaming of stripping and dancing for him? It can't be a coincidence, can it?

But if he is awake and messing with her dreams, he is playing the sleeper very well – or has an amazing illusion over himself – with his deep, slow breaths, even a mild little snore here and there.

Then Jane wonders if it's possible that he is somehow, even asleep, influencing her dreams. But he seems too calm, too relaxed to have just been having such a wild dream. Not that Jane is an expert on such things. Still, she can't resist peeking under the covers. No, he's not even slightly aroused….again, unless what she's seeing is illusion.

She shakes her head at herself. Will she ever get over doubting him? She's started to get annoyed about that even with herself.

She rolls over and tries to turn her thoughts to other things. Well, anything except the Stark-Foster Project, because thinking about that will no doubt wreck any chance of getting any more sleep that she has.

She finds herself thinking instead about the dream, replaying it in her mind. Dare she ask him to create that kind of scenario?

She considers it for a long moment, but then shakes her head again. As intriguing as it would be, she's just not that confident! No illusion in the world is going to erase her natural awkwardness and turn her into some slinky sex kitten. And, hot dream aside, that's not a role that has ever really appealed to her.

There have to be other things she can suggest. Yes, maybe one of the ideas he floated in the restaurant. Or maybe something related to Norse mythology? That could be different, and it would kill two birds with one stone – not only would she get ideas for bedroom play, but it would give her something else to talk about with Loki, something _safe_. She's pretty sure he'll enjoy picking apart the human versions of these myths, telling her everything that's wrong about them, and maybe in telling her what's _right_, she'll learn more about him and Asgard.

Yes, she definitely needs to do some _research_ on this. That is, after all, what she does best.

Loki materializes in the desert a short distance from what he has come to think of as 'Jane's city'. It is early morning, and though Jane has much work to do this day at her laboratory, in preparation to work with the metal man, Loki knows she is not there, not yet.

She'd said she was going to go and speak to Selvig first, and though it is tempting, Loki turns his attention away from her just as she knocks at the door of Selvig's current abode in the city.

Loki checks his warning-spells methodically, but as usual finds nothing. No sign of alien magic, no sign of the Chitauri. His warning-spells are silent once again.

He sighs and seats himself on a nearby rock, gazing out the arid expanse of the desert.

Too curious to resist, he stretches his senses back towards Jane again, then he frowns darkly, feeling her agitation. She and Selvig are arguing. It is too difficult to resist listening in:

"_You know what he is, Jane. He's evil. He concocted some pretty story to lull us all, but I was his slave for _months_. He's not to be trusted."_

"_Erik, please. He's _done_ evil, but that doesn't necessarily mean he _is_ evil. Everyone does the wrong thing sometimes. Maybe it's just when you're a god, the fallout is that much bigger when you screw up. He's never done anything to hurt me-" _

"_Will you listen to yourself?! Even the most lovesick fool-"_

Loki sighs heavily and turns his attention away as the yelling continues. He cannot blame Selvig for not trusting him, but he does not like the effect Selvig's anger is having on Jane.

He tries to force his mind to other thoughts, but alas, he has little else to think about!

Though he cannot expect Jane to share every moment of her days and nights with him, he finds little else to occupy his time with these days. He's uncharacteristically adrift, and though in one sense it is restful, not having to scheme and keep track of multiple lies, in another sense it can be wearyingly _boring_.

Pulling pranks on humans does not really entertain him, as it is far too easy. This is not aided by the fact that he suspects if Jane knew, it would lessen her opinion of him. He's not certain what concerns him most about that – her opinion of him, or the fact that he _cares_ about her opinion of him.

His attention drifts back to Jane and Selvig again.

Jane is apparently trying another tack: _"Could we forget about Loki for a second? I'm here to ask you to work on the portal with me. Let's share this moment in scientific history, Dad would've wanted that-"_

"_Please, Jane! Think about what you are saying! Loki forced me to build him that thing so he could bring his army through to destroy our world. Now you're going to build another one, and what makes you think that the first time you open it, Loki won't have another army waiting on the other side again! Your father would be _appalled_ that you are even _considering_-"_

"_Even if you don't trust my judgment these days, what about Thor's? He left Loki here with me. He knows Loki and I are together, and he's allowing it to happen. Heck, I think he even gave Loki his blessing. Thor is fine with Loki being here, and Fury and Stark are both cooperating with me to build this portal. You really think Loki is mind-controlling all three of them…_and _me?"_

Jane is yelling now, and Loki grimaces and turns back to continue his original line of thought:

As pleasurable as it is, he cannot spend all his time planning new depravities to visit upon Jane. Still, his last lecherous scheme had been well-received by her, despite her momentary fears…he savours the memory of the look on her face when she'd realized she was in bed with two _hims_! Truly, such are the only pranks he thoroughly enjoys pulling these days.

But no, other than dreaming up new bedroom acts, there is not much else for him to do, so in the absence of a need to scheme, he has spent the rest of his recent days reverting to another old pastime of his: _spying_. He has tried to resist watching Jane as much as possible, spending most of his time watching the mortals of SHIELD instead. Though he suspects Jane would also not approve of either of _those _activities.

However, SHIELD does not seem to be planning much of anything to do with him. Their paltry attempts to defend themselves against the Chitauri in the future exasperate him, but as yet Fury has not allowed his pride to sink to asking Loki for help. Very well, it is theirchoice. Foolhardy as it is.

Loki _had_ watched Jane and Stark, so he had anticipated her probing questions. Her doubts grate at him, yet he knows he has little cause to complain. She has given him so much already, and all of it on faith.

He turns his attention back to her now. Jane seems calmer, but also despairing.

"_Will you break things off with him, then?"_

"_No, Erik. He needs me, and I need him." _

There's a pause, and Loki can imagine Jane choosing her next words carefully.

"_But I also need you. You're family. You've been my family since before Dad died, and especially after. Mom and I aren't speaking any more. Do we need to be estranged from each other over this?"_

Loki shifts uncomfortably, listening as Selvig's voice finally gentles.

"_No, I suppose not. But I need...time. I don't trust Loki, period. And frankly, I don't really trust Fury either, especially after he lied about Coulson. I am here for you, Jane. But not when it comes to anything to do with Loki, and that means the portal. Working on it would be helping _him_, and I can't do that. If you manage to get it to work, and you open a way to Asgard and Odin himself walks through to greet humanity and pat Loki on the back, then I'll eat my words. But until that day…"_

A silence hangs between the two mortals, and Loki is unable to turn his attention away.

"_I don't trust Fury either. But I'm making this portal for _me,_ not anyone else. And working with SHIELD is the only way I can make all those years of hard work with no support _mean_ something. I wish you were involved, but I won't stop if you refuse. Please understand though, Erik, that I love you."_

Uncomfortable all over again without truly knowing why – Jane's love for Selvig is not a threat to their arrangement, Loki _knows_ this - he jerks his attention away once more, staring out across the desert.

He'd told Jane that he did not wish to bring pain to her, but it seems that he is doomed to do so, no matter how good his intentions.

Jane slowly closes the door of Erik's apartment behind her and walks in the direction of the lab, her first few strides slow and halting as she wipes tears from her cheeks.

_Well, that is_ not _how I wanted things to go_, she sighs to herself.

Still, her words to Erik – that she loved him, that he was family to her – seemed to have struck a chord. Maybe she just needs to wait, give him a week or two, and then try reaching out to him again. There's no harm in trying, anyway.

She takes a few deep breaths and tries her best to calm herself. She has a lot of things to organize this morning, and no time for distractions.

But as she makes her way to the edge of town and turns towards the lab, Jane is suddenly surprised to realize that, except for her problems with Erik, she actually feels..._happy_.

Before Thor, when it had just been her and Darcy, and sometimes Erik when he was visiting, Jane would have described herself as content. But now, with proof that other worlds exist, with her portal on the verge of being built and maybe even _functional_, and with things with Loki getting better all the time…yes, she's actually happy, for the first time in a long time.

_Happy_.

Smiling now, Jane walks past her old trailer, making a mental note to follow up with Izzy and her potential buyer as soon as possible. At least Loki had agreed to Jane's notion to teleport her to and from Stark Tower every workday, so that's one living arrangement issue seen to.

Jane checks her watch. Darcy should be here within the hour, which will hopefully give Jane some time to decide which notes are key to take, and to start to set aside some of the smaller instruments and equipment she plans to take to Stark Tower-

Jane freezes, staring out past the lab. There's a strange, prickly feeling in the desert air. What's going on?

The sounds from the town behind her seem oddly muted, and her heartbeat too loud in contrast.

It's almost like what happened when Loki and Thor fought, but instead of seeing something, this time she _feels_ something. Jane frowns darkly; are they at it again? She walks quickly behind her trailer to the place they fought, but the sensation fades away. She returns to her original position, and the sensation grows stronger again as she does so. Curious, she continues walking, changes course every time the sensation weakens again. She is soon walking away from the lab, deeper into the desert. She doesn't know how long she walks for, but soon she can no longer see Puente Antiguo when she turns and looks behind her. Jane stops dead at that point, feeling like every hair on her body is standing on end.

_What the hell is going on? Is it Lok-_

Jane is wrenched up bodily from the ground and straight up into the air, the force of it making her head snap painfully forward on her neck.

And she doesn't stop.

For a fascinated moment, Jane watches the ground fall away from beneath her, getting smaller and smaller in an insane reverse skydive. There's no sound but the rushing of the wind past her ears and her own gasping breaths. She's being held by what feels like a net or a blanket wrapped around her – but when she tears her eyes from the sight below her, she sees nothing on and around her but empty air.

Then the fear hits and Jane screams at the top of her lungs. Nothing changes, she doesn't stop or slow, and Jane screams again, her body twisting and struggling even though part of her brain is screaming at her to stop- _If you get free, you fall and you die! You DIE! _But whatever is holding her is too strong.

Some tiny, distant part of her still wonders if Loki is doing this, pulling some new mind-fuck. If any second now he'll materialize in mid-air and smile at her and somehow make this seem OK.

But as the ground gets even smaller, the air becomes thinner and thinner, and as black spots start to crowd out Jane's vision and blood begins to drip from her nose, she thinks that no, this can't be Loki.

Mercifully, Jane's body chooses that moment to pass out.

Loki has no warning whatsoever. One moment, he is idly following Jane's slow progress towards her lab, and wondering how he will fill the endless idle moments until she is done working on her portal for this day.

The next, there is a circle of Chitauri standing around him. Perhaps twenty of them.

They snarl and point their weapons, but even taken unawares (rare enough as that is), Loki of Asgard is still a warrior and a mage.

A breath later, there are _two_ Lokis for every Chitauri, some standing in front and some behind the aliens.

Confused, the Chitauri run amok, firing fruitlessly at duplicates, though usually hitting their fellows instead. This gives Loki plenty of leisure to first teleport himself a safe distance away, then to conjure his golden plate armor, and finally to draw his daggers.

He cloaks himself in invisibility and then returns to the fray, leisurely picking off one-by-one any Chitauri who have thus far managed to escape massacre by their fellows.

When the last Chitauri grunts and gives up its pathetic life at the end of Loki's dagger, he gazes across the bloodied sand mounded with dead, and reflects that truly, he is not surprised that such were beaten by mere mortals.

Indeed, it is barely a victory to have vanquished such paltry warriors.

He supposes with a weary sigh that he will have to inform SHIELD of this happenstance. They will want to 'contain' it, no doubt. But at least they will call upon him for aid now, will they not? With this evidence of probable future alien attacks before them?

It may give him something else to do, to fill his days here.

Almost absently, he reaches out to sense where Jane is. She was surely too far away to even see this battle, let alone be affected by it-

He cannot _feel_ her.

Loki's eyes widen, and he reaches out with a stronger thread of magic, but the result is the same.

No Jane.

Emotion twists in his gut, sharper than any sword, but it is only once he teleports himself to her last known location that he is willing to identify to himself what it is.

Panic.

He shoves it aside, reaching for anger. It will serve him better. _Think, fool,_ he curses himself.

_Is it not a weakness, to love?_Thanos' voice purrs in his mind.

He shoves that thought viciously away, too. _Think. You should have sensed the Chitauri before the attack. You did not. Which can only mean-_

_Thanos. Or The Other. _

Loki discounts the first possibility entirely. Thanos would not deign to come down to Midgard just to steal Jane away. He prefers to sit in his throne and _watch _the chaos he creates.

No, it must be The Other. It is not a god, not like him and the others of Asgard, but in the universe from which it was spawned, it would certainly have been regarded as such. Though its magic is of a different kind from his, The Other is certainly powerful enough to have cloaked the Chitauri from Loki's warning-spells and sight, and to have kidnapped Jane.

He curses himself again for an arrogant fool. He'd relied on his cloaking spell above all, and in truth, his warning-spells had been cast merely as an afterthought. And yet, should he not have realized once Thor found him, that there must be holes in his cloak? If Thor had found him, certainly it stands to reason that The Other could have. And _had_.

_Jane distracted you,_ Thanos' voice whispers.

Loki clenches his fists. _No_. He had expected Thanos' forces to attack Asgard first. The Tesseract _was_ there, after all. Then Loki would have had some warning…

Nor had he considered that Jane could be a target. _He_ is the betrayer, the turncoat. So why should they punish anyone else? Still, he knows Thanos' ways all too well, and he rebukes himself for not considering this possibility, for never thinking they would attempt to use her against him. Had he been wise enough to forsee this, he would have taken better precautions, _protected _her, but now it is far too late

But then he chides himself. He does not yet know for sure that this is the work of The Other.

Carefully, Loki searches for some remnant of The Other's magic, and finds it almost immediately. With a slowly-growing sense of dread, he realizes the Chitauri he'd killed had been merely cannon fodder, a distraction while The Other went after its true target.

He is a fool indeed. Loki grits his teeth, impotent rage filling him like acid.

The Other _has_ Jane.

"_No_," Loki whispers in a dry rasp to the uncaring desert. The only thing that keeps him from _screaming_ it is the knowledge that The Other might hear, and laugh.

Panic rears its dark fanged head again, and it feels worse than any torture of Thanos' making.

Jane slowly comes to, even though she's pretty sure she'd rather not.

She's lying on a floor of jagged rock with strange noises all around her. Dry slitherings, metal scraping against metal, chitterings and growls and low laughing shrieks.

The air is thin here and hard to breathe. It tastes bad in her lungs as she struggles reluctantly to sit up. It's also dim, and her eyes fight to make out the sharp, unforgiving shapes of the rocky walls rising crookedly around her, an odd set of stairs hanging in mid-air to her left, defying gravity.

Without warning she is grabbed, her arms almost crushed in grips so painful she groans, and two beings haul her to her feet.

She blinks watering eyes and looks at them. Grey skin, grey armour…Chitauri; she recognizes them from all the SHIELD file photos and media coverage from the Battle of Manhattan that she's seen.

She's in _big_ trouble. This makes what happened with SHIELD seem like nothing more than a day at Disney World by comparison.

Jane's head throbs painfully and she can feel blood drying into a stiff film under her nose, and the aliens holding her arms are hurting her, so in all it takes her a few moments to notice that there's a third being now approaching them, shadowy and cloaked.

It crouches down to study her face-to-face, and Jane shudders to realize it has no _eyes_, just cloth wrapped around the top half of its face, and a thing like a golden cage covering the lower half.

It speaks, and its voice sounds like it has rocks wedged deep in its throat. "Greetings, consort of Loki of Asgard."

Jane swallows hard, shaking. "Who are you? What do you want?" Her voice is sobbing and weak and she curses herself for it.

"I am called The Other. And what I want, I have – _you_."

"Wh-why?" Jane stutters. It raises a hand towards her throat – a hand, Jane notices with horrified fascination, which has two thumbs on it, and blue skin – and she flinches as it strokes a finger along Loki's snake necklace.

"The Asgardian betrayed us, and so the Master wishes him to suffer."

"I don't know who or what you are talking about," Jane tries, weakly.

The Other laughs, and it sounds like snake scales rubbing dryly together. On either side of her, the Chitauri titter their amusement.

"Oh? That collar you wear reeks of the Asgardian's magic. It tells me exactly to whom you belong. Who _owns_ you."

The creature leans closer, til it is nearly nose-to-nose with Jane. "And who will come running to save you, when your howls of pain and fear echo across space to his ears."

It smiles, revealing jagged, bloodied teeth

And Jane _screams_.

***sits in a corner with Loki with hands over ears, waiting for the angry screams to begin***

**So folks, anyone care to make any predictions on what's going to happen to Jane? Will Loki try to rescue her? Will he try and get help, and if so, from who? Tell me your thoughts in the comments! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**No God is An Island (2/3)**

**Author: starhawk2005**

**Fandom: Marvel's Avengers**

**Date: Aug 2013**

**Pairing: Loki/ Jane (Lokane)**

**Rating: Adult (18+).**

**Summary: Part Five of the Light in the Dark series. The Other has Jane. Will Loki rescue her? And if so, who can he turn to for help?**

**Beta: Thanks as always to canyr12 for being fabulous as always, and this time I must also thank fabulousbyfizzcap and writing-ramblr on Tumblr. All three of them helped me decide how much dark, graphic stuff to put into this chapter.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own any of these lovely characters. Not that I want to own The Other, mind you. You can keep it, Marvel!**

**Author's Note: Movie!verse, as usual! **

**IMPORTANT NOTE: There's some fairly ****graphic torture scenes**** and two instances of ****non-consensual sex**** (blame The Other, it's all it's fault) in this chapter. While I don't recommend skipping this chapter entirely, as there are some fairly significant plot developments, anybody who wants to avoid the dark stuff can just skip reading the scenes written in Jane's POV, from the time she's thrown into her cell until the time she is rescued, and you'll bypass all the nasty stuff.**

Loki clenches his fists so tightly his nails nearly shear through his skin, then he punches the nearest sand dune in a paroxysm of rage. Sand shoots up and eddies around him, coating his plate mail in a film of dust and dulling the shine of his horns, but he doesn't notice.

The Other _has_ Jane.

For a long and utterly shameful moment, Loki considers abandoning Jane to her fate and escaping to another Realm. Perhaps even another Worlds Tree entirely. Loki cannot die, and the thought of suffering at Thanos' hands for eternity…and all to save a mere mortal?

_Is it not a weakness, to love?_

No, Loki does not _love_ her. They have an 'arrangement', whereby they exchange pleasurable sensation. They offer each other physical comfort, and that is _all_. He has no use for anything more than that.

Why should he love her, in any case? The mortal who _doubts_ him. Oh, she had defended him vigorously enough to her fellow mortals, to Fury and to Selvig, to Stark, and even to his supposed brother Thor, but her continued questions to him only prove that her trust and faith in him are not total.

So why risk himself to save her, then? If indeed she is not already dead.

The Midgardian's Norse legends, laughably inaccurate as they are, do hold one kernel of truth – Loki had known many bed-partners. Multiple females in every Realm. So what is this tiny, doubtful, Midgardian female to _him_? He can find a suitable replacement within hours of traveling to a new Realm, of this he has no doubt.

And yet-

He closes his eyes, battling himself.

_No._

The Other is too expert a pupil of Thanos' teachings. Jane won't be killed, not while she is of use. Though whether she will be irreparably damaged will be another matter entirely-

He brushes that thought aside with an almost audible sound.

_Liesmith_, he has been called many a time, but lying to himself? Even he is not so skilled as to convince himself that Jane Foster of Midgard means nothing at all to him.

Truly, Loki must admit that it is _he_ who is unworthy of her, not the other way around. He is the God of Lies! Her trust is _there_, if not total, and really, could any reasonable person trust Loki completely, knowing what he is?

He has never truly wanted to be King, not of Asgard and not of Midgard, but he has always wanted _respect_. To be recognized for himself, for his talents and worth. For just one person to look upon him as not merely a god or a prince, but as a person deserving of trust. And Jane, he must confess, has given him that. She has trusted him so in many ways thus far, even as he has challenged her, repeatedly.

Above all, he has to admit there is a certain appeal in the fact that she has never lied to him (or at least, not that he has detected or discovered). He has been lied to his whole life by Odin, by Frigga. To have someone in his life who has and will always tell the truth to him, no matter how unpleasant, nor how he might react?

It has been a painfully rare thing in his millennia of existence, and yes, he can and will battle to maintain that.

But that is _all_. _It is _not_ love,_ he repeats, though the assertion is beginning to sound false even to himself, the echoes tiresome. He is strong enough not to need her, not to need _anyone (__Is it not a weakness, to love?_), but that does not mean he wishes to leave Jane in the hands of The Other. He cannot and will not condemn her to suffer even a fraction of the agonies he has endured. He owes her that much, if nothing else, for the gifts she has already granted him.

Decision made, he gathers his magic into himself, preparing for battle. Fortunately, he knows exactly where to begin his search.

Jane's scream fades into nothing, her lungs quickly running out of air. Her arms are practically shrieking from the crushing grip of the Chitauri.

But The Other doesn't touch her. Its callused palm stops mere inches from her forehead, and it cocks its own head in a grotesque parody of Loki.

"The Asgardian led us to believe that you humans are weak, that your world would fall easily." It scuffles somehow even closer to her, seeming to examine her face closely even though it has no eyes.

"Indeed, physically, your kind cannot withstand much torture. How unfortunate." It grins again as Jane shakes down to the core of her bones.

Then it does touch her, its palm cold and scaly, and Jane's body freezes in place. She tries to struggle, to breathe, but all her muscles seem to have turned to stone. She can't scream, can't fight, can't move, and there's this _crawling_ sensation in her mind-

The Other pulls its hand away from her after an endless moment and Jane, released, slumps like a dropped puppet. "Take her to a cell. She and her fear will serve as fine bait to lure our prey. And then I will present both of them as gifts to our Master." It grins again, smugly, and turns away.

Jane can move under her own power again, but it's cold comfort as the Chitauri wrench her arms nearly free of their sockets, dragging her away and down a long throat of rock. The darkness presses in, increasing her sense of suffocation.

They drag her into a tiny cave, lit with several small dim blue lights. There are chains riveted to the floor, and that is where they toss her, cuffing her wrists and ankles tightly before they leave.

The moment she is alone, Jane clamps both hands over her mouth to stifle the full-throated scream that wants so badly to come out. It turns into a series of racking sobs instead.

_Please, Loki, wherever you are, _help_ me._

Even knowing that it's a trap for him, she can't help herself: "Loki!" She doesn't intend to scream it, but she does anyway.

Nothing.

Silence falls after the echoes of her desperate cry fade, until there's only the sound of her heartbeat racing in her ears and her slightly wheezing breaths.

_So stupid_, she chides herself, to actually think he can _hear_ her from…wherever this is-

_-when your howls of pain and fear echo across space to his ears_, The Other's voice purrs in her mind.

Jane shudders and swipes at her tear-streaked cheeks and under her bloodied nose with one ragged sleeve. It's cold here too, though she hadn't noticed until now. She wraps her arms tightly around herself and shivers for a new reason.

_He'll come. He'll come. He'll come. _She chants it to herself over and over, in a nearly hysterical mantra.

_Been here before, though, haven't we?_ whispers the negative little voice, her only but unwanted companion_. Except if Loki takes his sweet time _this time_ to rescue you, you might be missing a few pieces by the time he gets here-_

She screams curses at the voice until it shuts up, then curls into the fetal position on the floor. Her stomach cramps and twists with nausea, and her lungs and head ache. _Breathe, Jane. You have to _breathe.

Time slows. Jane trembles and sweats, expecting someone to show up any moment to torture her, but she has no visitors of any kind. She checks her watch by sheer habit, but she can't read it. At first she thinks it is the dimness, but even after she crawls as close to one of the lights in the rough wall as she can, her chains scraping over the jagged flooring, she realizes something here is affecting it – the numbers blur and fade in and out, like she's in some kind of strange magnetic field.

There's only her breathing and heartbeat by which to keep time.

_You need to try to rest, Jane,_ she finally tells herself. It seems impossible, but she has to try. Certainly staying in a state of panic and fear will do nothing to increase her chances of survival.

She brushes as many small rocks out from under herself as she can, then curls up, trying to slow her breathing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

_Nothing._

Then there _is_ a sound. Inarticulate shouts from down the rough-hewn hallway, explosions…Jane sits up, heartbeat hammering at full-speed.

Silence falls again, pressing down on her ears, but now a tall, dark shadow fills the open doorway of her cell. Have they come for her at last? Jane crouches down like a cornered animal, freezing-

The shadow shifts, and that's when she realizes it has two long, curving horns protruding from the top of its head. A familiar and welcome silhouette.

"Loki!" she exclaims, voice shaking. He came, he's _here_-

"Jane," comes his answer, the tones low and deep and seeming to bounce and echo off the walls of her cell.

There's a faint green flash and her chains release and fall, hitting the floor with a dull clunk. She stumbles to her feet and runs straight at him, slamming into him and clutching on as tight as she can manage. "Oh God, Loki, I was so _scared_-" she babbles.

Loki's hands close around her upper arms, tight enough to make her wince, and he shoves her back, holding her away from him. Her heartbeat stutters in her chest at the expression on his face, the hellish light turning his skin a bizarre blue colour. Her arms throb from the grip of his fingers.

"So very beautiful," he says, but the eyes raking over her, and his voice, are cold. So cold that she barely recognizes him at all.

"Beautiful skin," he adds, one hand releasing her to trail roughened knuckles down her cheek, but the touch, which should comfort her, instead makes her skin crawl.

"So very lovely on you…but perhaps it would look even better…on my wall." A sharp twist of his wrist, and one of his daggers appears in his hand.

_No,_ Jane tries to say, to plead, but nothing comes out of her mouth but a weak stream of air.

He shoves her face-first into the cell wall, her forehead impacting with a crunch that deafens her, her shirt torn from her shoulders mere seconds later. She's still conscious when the point of his knife goes into her, just to the right of her spine, blood and unimaginable pain spilling out of her as he starts cutting-

Jane screams over and over until her voice breaks, but the agony only increases, building to a level she doesn't think she can live through. He never stops, and Jane doesn't pass out, even though she would if she could…

The reek of blood is all around her when he releases what's left of her at last. She slips in the blood underfoot and falls flat on her face, and when she looks up at him she sees him holding up a long, wide piece of what used to be _her_, and Jane's last moments of life go into one final shriek, the sound turning animal as she loses also what is left of her fragile sanity-

There's a _shift_ then, and Jane realizes she's still somehow whole, eyes shut tight and a hoarse scream dying in her throat as she shivers uncontrollably on the floor of the cell. She wipes sweat from her brow, her hand so weak it's a struggle to even lift it that high.

She's whole again, yes, but she's still here, still alone. Loki did not come to rescue her. Or to make her suffer.

Terror fills her as she realizes at last what The Other meant by 'torture'.

It takes both significant time and a worryingly large amount of his power, but Loki manages to find the portal which originally brought him here from Asgard, and then he _bends_ it, forcing it, tearing its other end free from Asgard and _pushing_ it to a new place.

When it is done and he is certain the new bridge will hold, Loki pauses to re-assess matters. The process has weakened him, drained much of his magic, but it will have to do. Most of the spells he will need to rescue Jane do not require much of his strength, as well-practiced as he has become at them through so many years. And he dares not wait too long to rescue Jane.

He steps into the portal, gravity pressing tightly on his chest as lights and sounds swirl and speed around him.

When the lights fade around him, Loki is on the desolate asteroid of sharp-edged rock where The Other maintains its base of operations. If The Other is to be found anywhere, it is most likely to be here, where it can observe the movements of its agents and send reports frequently to its Master.

Loki smiles, but it is without humour. Loki's arrogance had put Jane in harm's way, but now The Other's arrogance will deliver her safely back into Loki's keeping.

Loki does not, alas, know all of The Other's weaknesses – Thanos had seen to that – but it will surely _amuse_ Loki to see what type of torture – and for how long – that abomination can endure before it gives up its miserable life.

But first, Jane.

Loki draws his magic tightly in about himself, shielding himself from the sight of any who may be watching. It will be an easy matter, to magick himself into the base to release Jane, and then magick them both away to safety.

Then, once she is safe, Loki will return, kidnap The Other in a similar fashion, and then will Loki carry out his vengeance in a…_leisurely_ manner, as befits The Other's crime.

His first task is to locate Jane within the base. Loki concentrates, forming the magic into the shapes required. It comes to his call, an obedient dog to its familiar master-

Yet it does not work.

Loki's eyes widen in dismay.

He tries again, but the same result occurs.

_By Yggdrasil, _he curses.

His cloak of invisibility is still functional, as far as Loki can tell, so he dares to approach the base, testing an unwelcome theory. Closer, closer…until finally, as indeed he expected, he takes a step and his magic shivers away, leaving him exposed. It feels as though a glowing net has caught at a part of him, entangling and paralyzing that place within from through which his magic is sourced.

He has lost his single most useful weapon.

Loki jumps backwards into a defensive crouch, drawing a dagger and conjuring the cloak around himself once more as the _net_ releases him, but there is no reaction from the base. No horde of Chitauri bearing down on him. Yet.

Cautiously, he reaches out again with his magic. He already knows what he will find, but he wants to be certain-

Loki's teeth tighten together so hard in frustration that sharp pain shoots through his jaw. A Guardian, just as he suspected. Half beast and half machine, and designed to detect and block any magics that do not belong to Thanos and his ilk.

Loki remembers all too well being shown such a Guardian and having its powers demonstrated on him during his time in Thanos' company. Interestingly, Guardians do not block _all _magics from Thanos' enemies; while Loki had proven unable to cloak himself or to use any offensive spells during that time, Odin's illusion over him had never abated.

Why, Loki did not know. Perhaps the Guardian did not recognize such as a spell which could do harm? It had seemed to Loki to be too mindless a creature to be able to draw such a distinction, however. Perhaps it thought such an illusion purely defensive and thus too weak a threat, or perhaps his un-father's illusion had been too powerful.

Loki shakes his head angrily, driving such minutia away. He has more pressing matters to deal with, like the fact that he now cannot use _any _of his magic to save Jane– he cannot magick in, cannot cast invisibility and sneak in, cannot confuse the Chitauri garrison with copies of himself as he did earlier…

Panic stirs in his belly again, drawing its claws along his bones, but he grits his teeth and forces it away again. _Think, fool!_

Only three paths lie before him. One, he walks in unarmed and surrenders himself in exchange of Jane.

Loki dismisses that thought almost the moment it is birthed. Even if he was willing to suffer for eternity to save Jane – which he is _not_ - he was in Thanos' foul clutches long enough to learn the ways of him and his minions. Even if Loki yields, if anything this will encourage The Other to hurt Jane _more_, once Loki is there to serve as unwilling spectator.

The second path is to fight his way in, but entirely without magic. Loki considers this for a much longer time. Although he prefers to rely on his magic wherever possible, he trained as a warrior by Thor's side, and his skills with blades are not to be underestimated.

In addition, he does not believe the Chitauri pose much of a threat to him, his magic bound or not. Of course, The Other is a different matter entirely, but if it is engaged with Loki, it can hardly be busying itself harming Jane, can it not? As long as Loki can find a way to defeat it, the rest matters not. He can heal from many types of wounds.

Loki almost chooses that option, so that he may forgo even considering the last, unpalatable path. But even as he reaches for his knives, the thought occurs to him again- He _knows_ the ways of those who follow Thanos.

All too well.

The Other will likely not have harmed Jane much – _yet_ – because it will no doubt realize how fragile her flesh is, how easily she might expire. And then it will have lost its bait.

But if it realizes Loki is fighting to gain his way in…how quickly that may change.

Without his magic, he will need to take on the Chitauri garrison one at a time. And once The Other recognizes it is him, that will give it too much time and leisure to do something exceedingly damaging to Jane.

No doubt it will realize how easily Loki may be distracted, and perhaps taken prisoner, if the very Midgardian he came to collect has too many of her non-essential body parts cut from her on the battlements in front of him.

He either needs to find a way to attack fast and hard, to overwhelm all The Other's attention so that it thinks only of defense. Or, he needs a distraction. Preferably one that might not be immediately connected to _him-_

A shrieking noise fills his mind and Loki clutches his head in both hands, groaning.

Jane, in agony and fear, crying out to him-

When it fades to echoes, Loki finds himself on his knees. He cannot read minds or control them, but he is often able to sense strong emotions. So even with the Guardian's net overlaying the base, Jane's pain had smashed into him like a brutal fist.

Loki straightens up slowly, guilt and rage tearing at him until he nearly roars and throws caution to the winds, racing into the base to fall on his enemies like a ravening wolf-

_No._

_No._ With an effort, he forces his mind to silence, to calm. It is in fact the very first lesson he had learned as a mage; to still one's thoughts, so that in that centre of peace, the magic could be formed as one willed it. He takes the time to reach for that discipline now. Insanity and rage had not served him well in the too-near past, and it surely will not save Jane now.

Loki forces himself to deep, slow breaths, the last remnants of Jane's torment fading gradually away. _The third pathway_, he thinks to himself, forcing a return to his prior chain of thought.

Get help.

Jane gasps the insufficient air into her lungs, shuddering convulsively. Sweat and tears mix as they slide down her cheeks and drip off the edge of her jaw to patter onto the sharp-edged floor.

She shudders again, her head throbbing in time to her speeding heartbeat. Telling herself over and over that the things she'd seen hadn't been real had _not_ helped.

She'd tried that strategy during her second hallucination. She'd tried to stay calm, repeating _It's not real, it's not real_ like a mantra, even as Loki's gift had cinched itself tighter and tighter around her throat. She'd tried to loosen it, even to rip it off, but it had turned boiling hot, searing her fingers and cauterizing her carotid and jugular shut, the agony roasting her alive…

Jane had barely come to her senses, wheezing and still tugging at the now-cool necklace, before the next attack. This time she'd been in some building, addressing a throng of well-dressed men and women while soft classical music played in the background. She remembers thinking that one of those fancy dresses alone could have funded Jane's research for a year.

In the hallucination the language coming out of her mouth was unfamiliar to her but sounded German. Not that it mattered. Soon enough she glimpsed a commotion out of the corner of her eye, and then Loki was on her, hand around the back of her neck, dragging her forward.

Her flailing hands had glanced uselessly off his suit jacket, screaming people backing off, leaving a wide ring of empty air around Jane and the god brutally shoving her forward.

Loki had flipped her head over heels and slammed her down onto a strange table, the head of a bull at each end of it. Stunned, she'd watched paralyzed as he pinned her to the table with a cane topped with a blue gem, her ribs flexing painfully under the pressure. Her eyes could not seem to move from his face, and he grinned cruelly down at her, his other hand reaching into his jacket.

He'd pulled out a device Jane had never seen before, then he'd pressed part of it, making it whirr to life.

Then he'd slammed it onto Jane's face. Tiny knives had sliced into her eye-socket, and Jane had felt the sickening tug of her eyeball being pulled free. It had been _excruciating_, her screams loud enough to rattle windows and shatter glass, while the only eye she'd had left had stayed fixed on Loki's pleased expression. Hot blood from her wound had poured down her temple and into her hair, tickling.

When he'd wrenched the device free (her eye going with it) an eternity later, she had hoped for mercy, but he'd shown her none. She remembers being distantly aware of screams and running feet, but all of them heading away.

Nobody was coming to save her.

His hands had closed on her throat, his teeth flashing ferally at her. All her air had gone, her hands scrabbling futilely to loosen his grip. "Useless female," Loki had said to her, his tone calm and almost happy, with the dull crunch of her windpipe collapsing to punctuate his remark.

But even then, he had seen fit to extend her agony as long as he could. He'd loosened his grip, watching her gasps, her feeble, doomed efforts to _live_, his eyes gleaming sadistically before his hands had clenched with finality, her spine giving way.

Darkness had descended on Jane, blotting everything out but the after-images of the _pain_-

When her eyes flicker open she is back in her prison once more, coated in fear-sweat and wondering how much more of this she can take before her sanity gives like a frayed rope.

Loki returns to Midgard the same way he left it. Guilt assails him at abandoning Jane for the moment, but he knows he will think better, _quicker_, without the maelstrom of Jane's torture in his head. Mere moments after the first time, he had suffered her pains again, and he cannot afford to be slowed down every few minutes or he will never come up with a usable scheme.

He requires help, that is clear, but now he must resolve the issue of: Who can he rely on?

Jane's fellow Midgardians are the obvious choice, at least at first glance. Surely they will want to rescue the mortal who can open the way to the other Realms for them?

But as Loki surveys the carnage of his earlier battle with the Chitauri, second thoughts beset him.

SHIELD does not trust him; they have made that abundantly clear. Might they believe Loki himself has kidnapped Jane, and is using the Chitauri attack as a diversion? Loki has not the patience or time to disabuse them of any false notions they may get in their limited minds.

Another consideration: Can the Midgardians even be of help? Oh, if they attack, perhaps The Other will not believe Loki behind it, and Jane will be spared long enough for Loki to sneak in a back way, destroy the Guardian, and save her. But the mortals have few weapons capable of harming the Chitauri, except for that last, devastating weapon which Stark had used to end the Great Battle

Though Loki knows little about the mechanics of such a device (and normally would not deign to care), he is certain such a weapon will irreparably harm Jane if it is used in proximity to her.

Of course the other Midgardian possibility is the so-called Avengers, but Loki knows from his own spying that they are scattered all over this backwater Realm. Bringing them together and, most notably, convincing them (motley, undisciplined crew that they are), will take time Loki does not have to spare. How had the metal man put it? _Yeah, takes us a while to get any traction, I'll give you that one._

Jane may not have _a while_. Loki cannot afford to assume as much.

And this all assumes that the Midgardians even care to save her. She is important, or _should_ be considered important, in Loki's considered opinion, but whether they are intelligent enough to realize that is debatable.

He shakes his head slowly, grinding his bootheel into the bloodstained sand in frustration. This leaves him but one final possibility, as utterly unsavoury as it may be.

Loki realizes, however, just as he is about to attempt to modify his makeshift Bifröst again, that he has unfinished business here. Perhaps some mortals have noticed Jane's absence by now, but none seem to have marked the presence of this battleground.

If Loki allows SHIELD to discover this on their own, could that further weaken his position with them? No doubt Fury will be angered if he thinks other Chitauri attacks are coming and that Loki failed to warn them. Even though Loki thinks such are entirely unlikely - _he_ is the target, not Midgard - he supposes SHIELD will still want to marshal their defenses (such as they are), and will not thank Loki if he does not warn them.

But he has no _time_, and he knows these humans all too well. If he magicks in and tries to tell them what has happened in as quickly a manner as possible…well, they will not accept it. They will want to _debrief_ him, _interrogate_ him, _corroborate_ his story, and again, he has not the leisure for that…and no doubt they will mistake his foul mood for something other than it is, and that will not help, either-

_Wait._ Inspiration strikes.

Quickly he banishes his plate armour and helmet, and then he reaches his awareness into Jane's city, searching. A moment later, he is standing in the middle of Darcy Lewis' dwelling.

She is in the midst of walking out of her scullery area, holding a cup of what smells to him like the drink Jane calls 'coffee', and chattering impatiently into a device which Loki recognizes as what Jane calls a 'cell phone'. "Dammit Jane, pick _up_, would you? I know you don't want to be late for our flight to New York-" She spots Loki and does a double-take, sputtering and nearly dropping the cup.

"Jesus Christ!" Darcy yells, and Loki realizes belatedly that she does not yet recognize it is him. No doubt he should have knocked at her door and requested entry, but he has not even the time for such social niceties-

"Please, I beg you to forgive the manner of my entry, Lady Darcy." At his words her eyes narrow, and she finally appears to recognize him.

"Loki!" Darcy shakes her head. "You scared the crap out of me! Not cool, dude." She puts her cup down on a side-table with a hollow clunk. "You're lucky I'm dressed, or _you_ would've been the one scared. Is Jane with you? I've been trying to reach her-"

"Jane has been taken," Loki interrupts, "by the leader of the beings that attacked your city. Or rather, the _real_ leader," he amends, recalling that many mortals still think it was _him_. "Fear not," he adds as Darcy's eyes widen, "I will get her back, but time is of the essence, and so I require your aid, Lady."

Her eyes narrow at him again behind the small panes of glass she wears on her face, as if she is trying to decide if this is some prank of his (and perhaps Jane's).

"Please, Lady," Loki requests, dropping to one knee. He does not allow himself to dwell on the fact he is kneeling to a mere mortal. He is doing what is _practical_, no more. "I realize my reputation must precede me, but I swear by Yggdrasil that I am not lying. Jane is in dire trouble, and I will do all in my power to get her back, but I need your help."

There's a long pause as the mortal studies him, but finally Darcy nods slowly. "OK. What do you need me to do?"

In answer, Loki magicks them both instantly back to the site of the battle. Darcy staggers a step or two after they arrive and then looks around, the blood draining from her face, but Loki has not the time to introduce this scene to her gently.

"These Chitauri attacked me, distracted me while Jane was taken. And while I am sure SHIELD will want to know of it, I have not the leisure to deal with their…" he pauses, scrabbling for the term he has heard Jane use, "red-tape?"

Darcy nods slowly, clearly shaken. "Uh, OK."

"All that I require is that you show them that this event has occurred, and also that you inform them to be prepared to defend themselves. While I think it is unlikely that another attack is forthcoming – I believe at the moment I am the sole target, with Jane being used as bait – being prepared will do you Midgardians no harm."

"OK," she agrees, though she seems nervous. Worrying about what has happened to Jane? Well, he feels much the same. "Just one question, though- where the hell are we?"

Loki's patience frays and he resists the urge to grind his teeth. "Your place of work is several minutes' walk that way, in the direction of the sun," Loki indicates to her, fighting for calm. "I will take you back there now," he adds, and does.

He catches Darcy's arm and steadies her as they materialize for a second time. "I thank you, Lady Darcy," he says gravely, even as the sense of urgency rises sharply within him again. "In return, when this is resolved you may ask a boon of me. But for now there are other matters I must attend to." He pauses, realizing the inevitable is upon him. "I cannot rescue Jane alone."

"Where are you going to go for help?" Darcy asks anxiously, twisting her phone between her fingers.

Loki draws a heavy breath. "To Asgard," he replies.

Jane is in a heap on the floor. Every muscle aches, her breath rattling in her lungs as she fights off a wave of nausea, her headache spiking painfully in her temples. A metallic taste coats her mouth and throat, and as blood continues to drip intermittently from her nose, Jane has to wonder whether the air here is poisonous to her.

But soon such practical worries are brushed aside by yet another attack on her mind. Jane can feel her resistance waning, her defenses weakening with each assault. This time she barely manages one attempt to convince herself that _it isn't real_, before the nightmare swallows her whole.

She recognizes this scenario within one and half heartbeats. A forest. At night. A familiar figure dressed in golden armour and ridiculously extravagant horns, slowly advancing on her.

Except there's nothing to inspire lust in her this time.

"I am going to make a toy of you, little Midgardian whore," Loki rasps, his voice and eyes as cold as ice.

Jane doesn't even waste breath answering, she just turns and runs.

A hand seizes her hair within half a step, yanking her back and almost tearing the hair from her scalp, ending her futile bid for freedom.

He throws her to the ground hard enough to rattle her bones, her teeth clicking together hard as her chin impacts hard dirt. He flips her onto her back and tears at the collar of her shirt, his intent clear within moments.

_This_ is a new torture, an all-new twisting of what had been between them, but Jane can't put a stop to it. Just like all the other false echoes The Other's spell has created in her brain during her imprisonment.

He looms over her, brushing off her feeble attempts to get free, to keep herself covered. He laughs cruelly, mocking her, then pins her easily down as he unlaces himself.

It's an agony of the most personal, violating sort as he thrusts inside her.

He doesn't stop. Every thrust is like a punishing blow, and her ragged screams and her pleading with him gain her absolutely no mercy.

He grunts like an animal and freezes, emptying himself, then pulls out of her at last. But Jane knows the horror won't end here. She won't be let off the hook that easily.

He makes a disgusted noise and tosses her aside like a doll, Jane landing so hard on her side that she nearly blacks out when her head hits the ground.

"_Useless_," he proclaims. "Even as a whore, you fall short, Midgardian. Shall we see if your slow death will prove more entertaining to me?"

He kicks her in the stomach, the force enough to throw her across the clearing and into a nearby tree. Her spine gives with a wet snap, and a terrible noise is forced out of her as she tumbles forward into the sharp-edged grass.

He stalks forward slowly, teeth gleaming wickedly, and resumes kicking her. Bones break, blood drips from her nose and mouth in a flood, the pain excruciating, and through it all he never stops laughing, she can still hear it even as her dying screams ring in her ears-

-and she's back in her cell.

Shivering uncontrollably, unable to stop, Jane curls into a ball as dry, rasping sobs overtake her. No matter how hard she tries, when she reaches to find the actual, real memory of that night in the forest, only the dark, horrible torture comes to mind.

It's not just the air which is poisonous here, she soon realizes. Her memories are being poisoned as well, rewritten, until she is no longer sure which is real and which memories are the false ones, created by her tormentors.

It again takes Loki several hours and considerable strength of magic and will to bend his makeshift Bifröst so that it takes him to Asgard instead. Loki practically feels each second as if they are moments of Jane's life running down, and he has to keep halting his work to center himself. He cannot save her if he gives in to panic; he has to believe that The Other will keep her basically whole. Otherwise she will hardly serve as viable bait, correct?

Finally he materializes within the bowels of the palace from which he escaped not that long ago.

He cloaks himself quickly and then lopes cautiously through the palace corridors, a curious mixture of anger, longing, and homesickness threatening to overwhelm him. Many times, he has to sneak around people that he knows – _knew_- though thankfully he does not encounter Odin or Frigga. Throughout, he must force his warring emotions aside. Jane _needs_ him, and so all other concerns are secondary.

He soon finds himself climbing the stairs to the royal chambers. Thor's rooms are empty but when Loki stretches out his magic, he senses that Thor coming towards them. _Good._ Finally, something is working to serve Loki. Loki works at a rapid pace to seal Thor's rooms with his magic, shielding the chamber from the prying eyes of Heimdall, Odin, and whoever else might try to stop him in his task.

The doors open and Thor strides in alone, ordering a bevy of servants away curtly, and the look on his face gives Loki brief pause. His former brother's brow is furrowed, lines of irritation carved deeply into his face, and Loki's heart leaps gladly…before he remembers why he is here again.

"Brother," Loki says deliberately, materializing in the middle of Thor's chambers.

Thor does a double-take, much as Lady Darcy did, though he does not reach for Mjölnir. Yet. "Loki." Thor's eyes narrow, and now he _does _reach for Mjölnir. "Why are you here?" Suspicion drips from his voice.

Gritting his teeth and attempting to swallow his considerable pride, Loki drops reluctantly to one knee. "As a supplicant, brother."

Thor's eyes widen but his hand does not move from Mjölnir's haft. Obviously expecting a trick, he asks "And why is that, brother?" Thor's tone lacks any sarcasm, and Loki has to fight not to sneer. He is using his oaf of a "brother" to get Jane back, that is all. He does not forgive Thor, or like him, he merely needs to _use_ him. He still _hates_, but he must set that aside for the moment.

"Jane," Loki says simply.

Now Thor _does_ pull Mjölnir free "I warned you, Loki, that if you hurt her-"

"So quick to believe the worst of me," Loki accuses, unable to stop the bitterness in his tone. "I am _sorry_ to disappoint, but I am not the monster this time. It was the Chitauri and their leader. It is called The Other. They found me somehow on Midgard, and discovered that Jane and I were…involved," he continues, choosing to use Jane's words to describe their arrangement. "And now they have taken her, to use as a lure." Though guilt stabs sharply at him again, Loki stops at admitting his own culpability in this whole situation.

"I would rescue her alone, if I could. Believe me, I would rather not beg for your aid." Loki continues, eyes on the floor in what he hopes will be seen as an attempt at humility. "But The Other's stronghold is defended by a creature capable of blocking all magics save those desired by The Other, and I cannot do anything to save Jane, other than battle physically. And I believe if I try, The Other may well put Jane to the sword in front of me. I require a diversion, and I believe you and our friends," the last two words burn his throat like acid, but he forces himself to say them regardless, "are strong enough, even without magic, to destroy much of the Chitauri garrison. And while they are diverted, I shall find another way in, destroy their Guardian, and then save Jane."

Loki stops and waits, eyes still on the floor. He has spoken honestly for once, but that does not mean Thor will believe him, of course. But he has not considered what he will do if Thor does not agree.

A heavy silence hangs between them.

His anger and panic rising again, Loki tries another approach: "You call yourself protector of Earth. Well, now an innocent woman of Earth is going to pay for the sins of one of Asgard – or, if you prefer, _formerly_ of Asgard. You value Jane too, I know this. If you have any degree of love left for her, please my brother, help-"

"Stop, brother," Thor cuts him off. Thor steps forwards and his hand squeezes Loki's shoulder, and Loki has to force himself not to stab it. "Of course I will give you my aid. Of course I want to help Jane. I am concerned, however, as to how to convince Sif and the Warriors Three to aid _us_."

It's a victory, though Loki refuses to recognize the relief swirling in his chest. He looks up at Thor, shaking his head in disbelief. "You are the Crown Prince. They will follow your orders, will they not?"

Thor shakes his head and turns from Loki, tucking Mjölnir away once more. "Perhaps, but I would prefer that they agree to accompany us of their own will, not because I order them to." Thor hesitates, then adds: "I am beginning to see the downfall of treating those who serve us as if they are nothing more than mindless tools, to be used for whatever purpose one has at the time."

Loki frowns. "If that comment is directed at me, may I respectfully suggest that now is _not_ the time-"

"No, my brother, I speak of Odin," Thor clarifies, and Loki's shoulders tighten painfully at the mention of his name.

Thor turns to meet Loki's indignant gaze. "Our father was not pleased that I left you free to roam the Earth, brother, not after he expended much energy to send me to fetch you. He did not agree with my reasons for doing so."

Loki cocks his head. He does not even bother to contradict Thor about Odin's status as _their_ father, his curiosity getting the better of him. "Which were?"

Thor shakes his head. "Another time. For now, suffice it to say that for the moment I am not the favoured son you seem to have always taken me for. And I have begun to see how immovable Odin is, and how that might have created additional difficulties for you which might not otherwise have occurred."

Fascinating, but Loki has little time for this prattle. "I agree, another time. Very well, let us find and convince our…allies. While I am quite certain The Other will not kill Jane, that does not mean he will not _hurt_ her, and I fear the longer I delay-" Loki leaves the thought to hang in the air. Not merely for dramatic effect (though there _is _that), but because even he does not want to consider it.

Thor nods. "Very well. Cloak your presence, and let us go."

"Thor, you cannot be serious!" Sif exclaims, glaring daggers at Loki. "He tried to kill you, to kill us-"

Loki stands stony faced in the middle of the company, his eyes once again downcast. This is utterly and completely _humiliating_, but he will suffer it. It is surely nothing compared to what Jane is suffering right now, if the screams in his mind had been any indication.

Besides, Sif is quite correct, even Loki must acknowledge it. If grudgingly.

But time is advancing, and he does not know how much time Jane might have left, so he leaps into the verbal fray, interrupting Thor's entreating reply. "The things that I have done, I _will _answer for," he lies smoothly. "But right now we have a far more urgent matter to attend to." He raises his eyes to Sif's livid ones. "You met Jane Foster of Midgard, did you not? Do you believe she deserves to die a slow, horrible demise at the hands of these foul creatures, Lady Sif?"

Sif's frown only deepens, and behind her the so-called Warriors Three fidget uneasily. "You would have me believe her innocent? It is _you_ she bedded, and knowingly, after all-"

"Sif," Thor interjects warningly, anger colouring his own tones now, and Sif falls immediately silent. Thor motions to her to step away with him. "May I have a moment alone with my shield-mate?" he asks the rest of them. No one gainsays him.

Thor and Sif remove themselves for long moments, leaving Loki to endure the discomfort of being alone in Hogun, Volstagg, and Fandral's company. Then again, has he _ever_ felt comfortable in their company? The insults they have tossed at him, their laughter and taunts at his expense, the way their easy camaraderie with each other has always eluded him…

_You _will _endure this, for Jane,_ he reminds himself. It will not be for long, he reminds himself. He will set them as bait to lure The Other's forces and attention away, he will rescue Jane, and then…well, he has not thought that far ahead, but he certainly will not abide one moment more of their presence than he has to, from that moment forward!

Thor and Sif finally return, Sif frowning still but with a resigned set to her shoulders that Loki reads easily enough, as he has seen it countless times.

He has won.

"Come, my friends," Thor addresses them all. "We go to rescue an innocent woman, a good friend, and a brilliant mind who will allow the light of the universe to touch Midgard. Do we fight as one?"

There is a long pause before Sif agrees, her voice quiet. Volstagg is quick on her heels to give his affirmation, but Loki stops listening at that point, too occupied gathering his magic to twist the pathway once more to his purposes.

_Jane_, he thinks. _Be strong. I am coming._

Her heartbeat thuds loudly in her ears, still seeming to be way too fast, but Jane can barely think through the headache tearing at her temples.

She swipes weakly at the blood dripping from her nose again, struggling to hold on. Her strength is fading, deserting her, her lungs struggling each time she has to breathe in.

She may not make it until Loki gets here. _If_ he gets here.

The latest hallucinations have been the worst yet.

First Jane had found herself back in her trailer being stalked by Loki. Just like the early days, except…this time he had ripped her from her bed and, laughing the entire time, had violated her in _every_ way he could. It had been even worse than the forest hallucination.

Then, close on the first hallucination's heels, two other attacks had begun. Neither of these delusions seemed to have come from _her _memories, but it scarcely mattered.

She'd found herself standing among in a group of well-dressed, foreign-language-speaking people – was it the same group that had screamed and abandoned her, leaving Loki to carve out her eye at his leisure? – all of them screaming and milling around until a voice, unmistakably Loki's, had yelled "KNEEL!"

Just like the rest, Jane had tried to kneel too, but predictably, she found her joints were locked. Soon she was the only one standing, Loki's enraged gaze searing across her cheekbones.

"Kneel or die," he'd threatened her, but though Jane had fought her own body as hard as she could, she'd been completely unable to speak or move. Until he'd strode over and dragged her in front of the whimpering throng. Then her nerveless fingers had tried to loosen his crushing grip, but of course there was no escape. "Observe what happens to those who do not obey their King," he'd informed them all, his eyes gleaming sadistically.

Then he'd used the sharp cutting edge of his scepter to disembowel her.

Now Jane shakes her head weakly, attempting to dislodge that last memory.

The final hallucination had been no less horrific. Loki had been standing in something that looked like a huge glass cage, and Jane had been standing outside it, her reflection showing faintly in the glass.

She'd known enough by then to realize instantly that the fact she was on the outside, separated from him, would serve as no protection.

"Pathetic!" Loki had spat at her – literally – "This is my bargain, you mewling quim: I'm going to murder you, slowly, _intimately_, in every way I know you fear. And only then will you be free of me, when you give up your miserable excuse for a life."

Rage had swirled in Jane's belly for one rebellious second – how tired she was of being afraid, and terrorized, and _hurt_ – but it had shattered just like the glass between them, as Loki's fist had shot through it. He'd dragged Jane into the cell through the jagged hole, and the glass had cut into her in a thousand places.

She'd been thrown to the floor, Loki twisting her right arm until the joint _gave _with a grisly sound-

_Enough!_ Jane yells silently as she claps her hands over her ears.

As hard as it is, she needs to breathe, and to hold on to what is _real_.

Deliberately she touches the necklace and fills her mind as best she can with _real _memories. It's a fight like nothing she's ever experienced before. The images of Loki, brutish and bloodthirsty and full of hate, keep trying to invade, and Jane tries to evade them, fighting back with:

_He's smiling. "My sincerest apologies, Lady." He presses soft lips to the backs of her fingers. "Apparently, I have much to learn about Midgardian women-"_

_He looks at her for a long moment. "Then you will be. Mine, and mine alone. Do you understand-"_

"_Say that you belong to me," he says right into her ear, breath tickling her skin-_

"_Don't be afraid." Somehow she can hear him over the hissing. "Close your eyes, Jane. Give me your trust." She does, trying not to think about being almost totally covered in snakes-_

_He laughs softly. "Your obedience pleases me, and I know just how to 'reward' you. You next feel me undoing your breeches. I have you stripped bare, and I pull you back hard against me. Can you feel my armour pressing against your soft skin? Can you feel how badly I _want_ you-"_

_She frowns. She can't see the bite-mark, but it's still there; she can feel the small scabs even now. "Unfortunately, I do not possess the ability to heal another," Loki says, "but I can hide the evidence, at least, so that you do not have to. Perhaps there may come a time when you can wear my marks openly, but I can appreciate that such a time is not yet come-"_

_His voice is a low, rough purr. "Please, my lady, remove your clothing. I wish to sample _those _sweet lips again-"_

_His eyes never leave her face, their hands clasped and fingers entwined. He kisses her and it mirrors what their lower bodies are doing, gentle and unhurried. Even after breaking the kiss, his stays close, their breaths mingling and strands of his dark hair tickling her face-_

"_Is it not obvious? I thought I was seeing to your comfort. I am sure you have had something of a trying day-"_

"_Its beauty is the merest shadow, compared to that of the one who wears it."_

"_Your first task is to build the bridge, and finally the other mortals are recognizing and supporting your hard work and intellect-"_

She can't give in. She has to trust that someone – if not Loki, then _someone_ – will come to save her. This is torture, but it's all in her mind. She can survive it.

She _has_ to.

But the seconds – minutes? Hours? _Days_? She can no longer tell – crawl by, and the hallucinations twist and sear through her mind, and it's so hard to keep fighting.

She's cold and weak, both starving and nauseated at the same time, and her head _hurts_.

It's getting harder and harder to remember whether Loki is supposed to come and save her, or if he is the one keeping her prisoner and tormenting her. Her actual memories mix and combine with the poisoned ones, until she is no longer sure how she feels about Loki any longer.

Which is the real Loki?

Forcing the pathway yet again back to The Other's base drains Loki's magic significantly, but he cannot wait for it to be replenished. He has taken too long already.

Thor had suggested stealing the Tesseract from the Vault and using it to make the portal instead, but as tempting as the idea is, Loki refuses to allow it. Besides the time and danger involved in pilfering it, the notion of having the Tesseract in such close proximity to The Other just seems like the worst possible idea anyone has ever had. And quite possibly what The Other is hoping for.

Loki's magic alone will have to do. His power will not serve him in any case until the Guardian is killed, and after that he need only magick Jane to safety.

He is on edge at first, waiting for more of her screams to fill his mind, but for the moment he _senses_ nothing. Some part of him is frightened by the silence, and once more he pushes himself to reach for the calm he will need.

His fellow warriors stride towards The Other's stronghold, readying their weapons, while Loki waits in the deep shadows of the rocks. He conjures his plate armour as Thor and the small band walk through the invisible boundary of the Guardian's magic.

Mjölnir's magic will be blunted too, Loki knows, and he explained as much to Thor – not to help Thor, but to help _himself_ – but as much as it pains Loki to admit it, Thor is stronger than him, and the better warrior. Even powerless, Mjölnir is still a formidable weapon, and neither do Sif nor the Warriors Three rely on magic to the extent Loki does. They will do fine without it, he presumes.

It will serve. It _must_. As his 'friends' engage the first of the Chitauri garrison, Loki draws his knives, crosses into the sphere of The Guardian's influence, and begins to move sideways away from the emerging battle. He has been here before, many months before the Chitauri attack on Midgard, and he remembers a few of the less-used side and back entries to The Other's base. He will make use of such a one now, especially if they are left unguarded.

The sounds of fighting reach Loki's ears – deep voices shouting, alien screams, the unmistakable sound of the Chitauri's weaponry – and he hurries, crouched low to the ground since he cannot hide himself from anyone's eyes.

The first side-entry he makes for is indeed abandoned when Loki reaches it. No surprise; the sounds of battle behind him are now at a fever pitch. He smiles humourlessly and ducks into the rough-hewn opening in the rock.

He must also rely on his memory to find the Guardian, and alas he takes a few wrong turns. He is forced several times to dispatch Chitauri guards, earning him a few slashes and burn marks along his body, but nothing that does anything more than slow him down. Magic-bound he may be, but he is _still_ a god – strong, fast, and also burning with vengeance and rage.

Again, it will serve.

Finally, he locates the proper room. Even without magic, he can feel the _vibrations_ of the beast, as well as see from a distance the strange yellow-grey light of the machines that keep the thing half-alive.

He kills the six Chitauri sentries posted to protect it, taking more minor damage in the process, then he pauses in front of it to consider how it shall die. His lip curls in disgust; it is like no beast he has ever seen before, in this universe or any other.

It is truly an offense against Yggdrasil. Ash-grey flesh, mostly bare but spotted here and there with tufts of greasy, unkempt fur. Eyes, most of them glazed and blind, scattered seemingly at random on the top half of its bulk. And the rest of it is machinery. Wires, bits and pieces of metal, and other things that Loki has no name for, though no doubt the Midgardians do, given their dependence on technology rather than magic.

None of which, sadly, helps him figure out how to destroy this being.

He thinks quickly. Like the Chitauri, The Guardian is a mix of machine and living thing. Perhaps therein lies the clue? Stark managed to slay the entire Chitauri attack force by destroying the machines carried by their lead ship. Perhaps a similar process can be employed here?

His knives may work, but they are small and will take much time, so Loki relieves one of his recently-defeated foes of their light-shooting weapon. If he severs it from its power source, he suspects the abomination will expire.

Several thick cables run from the underside of the Guardian, and Loki targets those first. The lights in the room flicker, and Loki feels the harness on his magic weaken…but only for a moment. Then a series of subordinate systems appear to take over.

His impatience and anger increasing with each passing second, Loki next blasts every cable and wire he sees connected to the thing, though his ears are always trained for approaching footsteps. Finally, his lips pressed together so tightly that they nearly disappear, he drops the steaming gun to the floor and reaches for his knives. He stabs both of them deep into the largest eye he sees, pushing them as far as they will go, hoping to damage what passes for the thing's brain.

At last, the Guardian emits a high-pitched whine that goes through Loki's head like a spear, and Loki feels his magic return to him, filling him like a goblet. It is not much, not after all the spells he has cast today, but it will do. As long as he has enough strength to take Jane out and a little ways away, that is all he needs.

But his relief is short-lived. With the resurgence of his power comes the renewal of his connection to Jane, and somehow, perhaps due to physical proximity, her terror and anguish hits him with a force that drives him to his knees, nausea roiling in his guts. His thoughts scatter, ripped to shreds-

He struggles to build a _wall_ in his mind, to cage her feelings for the moment so they will not distract him so. Although Thor and the others will fight the better with their magic returned, as will he, there is no cause to become complacent. Loki has not the magic to cloak himself, not if he still wishes to magick Jane free of this accursed place.

In addition, he must be cautious; The Other likely is here somewhere in this stronghold, and he does not wish to confront it, not yet.

Fortune appears to have other plans, however. Though Loki attempts to avoid any corridors where he hears many feet running or other signs of life; reaching out his senses to locate Jane, his path leads him down one long stone hall and into a large room…

And before him, stands the one being he most did not want to meet.

"Asgardian," The Other purrs, taking slow steps towards Loki. "So, you _do_ value the mortal. The Master will be eager to learn of this, once I present the two of you to him to face his justice."

"The _Master_," Loki rasps, "will not be given the opportunity to lay hands on her." Hate simmers within him and his whole body clenches, preparing for the fight.

The Other's hands are empty, but Loki knows enough to know it is not defenseless. He draws his knives and gathers his remaining magic, even as The Other roars and _slides_ across the room to stand in front of Loki.

It grins and slams both hands to either side of Loki's head. It's so quick he doesn't have the time to raise his own hands to block.

Reason abruptly deserts him. He's back in Thanos' clutches, chained under an unending fall of acid slowly eating his flesh away. "A preview of your fate for all eternity, Betrayer," The Other's voice hisses gleefully in Loki's mind. "After, of course, the Master has flayed and dismembered your mortal whore, _alive_, in front of you, that you may properly appreciate her screams." It pauses. "Unless, of course, you agree to steal the Tesseract from Asgard for us. Perhaps then the Master will see fit to spare-"

In the background of his own delusions, Loki is aware of Jane. Her emotions swirl around the edges of his own pain, her torment and fear pulsing at him in waves. It _hurts_, adding to the weight of hurt already upon him. But it also grounds him, reminds him why he is here.

He forces the center of his mind to calm, shutting out the poison of the hallucinations and memories. Within that bastion, he wonders if perhaps The Other's own spells can be turned against it. "You are …weak," he hisses through gritted teeth as he falls to his knees in front of his opponent. "You enjoy giving pain…but…tell me…will you like it so well…while you are…_receiving_ it?"

Using up a large portion of his remaining magic, Loki binds _all_ the pain – both his and Jane's – into a glowing coil in the middle of himself, fashions it into a weapon, and _pushes_ it with all his strength. Straight into the mind of The Other.

The response is immediate.

The Other howls, backing away and grasping at its own head, and Loki scoops both his daggers up from the floor and takes a staggering step, driving both home into The Other's chest.

But The Other _is_ powerful, and a fearsomely strong arm knocks Loki into the nearest wall, the creature snarling and yanking the daggers from its body.

Black ichor leaks from each wound, though Loki can see that neither is bleeding enough to be fatal.

Loki's helmet has fallen off, the rim dented, but it scarcely matters. He cannot win a physical battle against The Other. This much he is sure, given what Thanos told him about the creature. And as The Other laughs and edges slowly closer, thinking to draw out the moment of its victory, Loki is sure Thanos also told The Other about the limits of Loki's magic and abilities. He would know such from the violation of Loki's mind at their first encounter.

And yet, did Thanos tell The Other _all_? Perhaps it is time to test that.

The source from which Loki draws to fuel his illusions and other spells is severely depleted, but such is not his _only_ source of magic, is it?

His Jotun heritage brings its own abilities. Would Thanos have warned The Other of this? Loki thinks not. Thanos had enjoyed breeding conflict among his minions, sharing some weaknesses and strengths but not others…

Loki's hair falls into his eyes as he rises slowly to his knees, and he rakes it away angrily. Such does not usually happen to him in the midst of battle, but since Jane had asked him to stop plastering it down to his skull-

_Jane_-

_Yes_. To save her, it is worth the risk, hated though this magic is.

The Other continues its leisurely stalk towards him, still chortling. It feels sure of its prize. _Arrogant abomination._

Finally making it to his feet, and with Jane's agony still whirling in his head, Loki tightens his jaw and allows the _cold_ to flow into him, though it takes a vicious struggle with himself. The Other pauses two paces away, confusion on its face as Loki's skin, eyes and hair change, until his flesh is as blue as The Other's.

It is now Loki's turn to laugh, as well as his turn to dart forward, wrath driving him. His hand catches The Other's wrist. With Jane's continued screams in his head as a goad, Loki pours every ounce of _cold_ he possesses into The Other, not stopping until that power is exhausted.

The Other moans, barely able to move. And Loki, his ire not even begun to be exhausted, uses a little more of his remaining magic to crack open his pocket dimension, summoning the Casket.

Loki does not know how powerful his _cold_ is compared to other Jotuns, and he does not care to determine this, but his abilities are as nothing compared to the Casket. As with Heimdall months ago, the Casket completes what Loki started, turning The Other from flesh to solid ice in a mere handful of moments.

This time Loki will not make the same mistake twice. He banishes the Casket back into the pocket dimension, then gathers his ire into himself.

With a final scream of rage, Loki kicks The Other in the belly with all of his strength, with all the weight of loathing and vengeance he holds, and the thing shatters into millions of tiny pieces.

Even then, Loki's viciousness is not yet spent. Not until he pulverizes every last piece, grinding them into the rock floor with his boot.

He curses The Other in the Asgardian tongue as he does so, stamping and hurling epithets until a flicker of movement in one of the room's doorways makes him drop into a defensive posture-

It is Thor.

For a moment the two gods stare at each other. Of course, Loki realizes a second later. Thor has never before witnessed Loki's Jotun form. Not _true _form, no, he will never call it that, ever.

Loki says nothing, turning away and allowing the _cold_ to fade out of him. As he does so, he feels Odin's illusion enfold him once more.

He has used too much magic, he realizes belatedly. He has not enough left to teleport Jane away. Yet, if Thor is here, perhaps it will not be necessary?

"How goes the battle?" Loki asks, voice hoarse.

Thor gestures with Mjölnir, his face and armour streaked with blood, both his and Chitauri, and a dark bruise forming on the side of his jaw. "It is won. It went the faster once our powers were returned to us." He hesitates, and Loki can well imagine the questions Thor must have, but his false brother merely strides forward, scraping at the glittering fragments underfoot with the toe of his boot. "Was this their leader?" Loki can almost hear Thor wondering at the violence Loki used to crush it to powder.

"Once," Loki replies with a rattling laugh. "It should not have taken Jane. Speaking of, I must find her."

"I will accompany you, brother," Thor insists, though Loki scoops up his helmet from the floor and treads past Thor without dignifying him with a response. If the Chitauri are indeed all dead, then Loki no longer requires his false brother.

Thus he need not play this irritating game of supplication any longer.

His magic, lessened though it is, soon locates Jane. Within moments he is standing in the doorway of a tiny, rough-hewn cell.

The reek of fear, despair and blood sickens him, and he casts his helmet outside by the door of the cell and squeezes his hands into tight fists, calling a small globe of light into being. Even as part of him balks at discovering the damage that has been done to her.

The huddled shape on the floor flinches from the brightness, and Loki shuffles forward almost reluctantly and drops to his knees beside her. He cannot see her face, her hair is lying across it, and perhaps to avoid the accusation he imagines he will see in her gaze, he turns his attention elsewhere first.

He places a hand on her nearest wrist, noting the bloodied marks around each shackle at wrist and ankle, anger edging his words as he speaks the words of a spell to free her. The irons drop to the floor and, braced for the worst, he lifts her in his arms and carefully brushes her hair from her face.

She is slumped into his arms, lax and limp, her eyes flickering behind closed lids. Loki's jaw spasms painfully to see the bloody scratches adorning her throat above and below his gift, as if she had tried to wrest it from her neck.

"Jane," Loki whispers at last, reaching out with magic to touch her mind-

Her eyes snap open. Unfocused at first, they clear, but with clarity comes _fear_. She twists and writhes, and unwilling to frighten her further, Loki lets her go, though she stumbles over her own limbs and falls back to the floor with an ungainly thump, avoiding his steadying hand.

She pants as she crawls backwards, her eyes darting around the room as if looking for somewhere, _anywhere_, to escape to.

"_Jane_," Loki tries again, reaching out towards her. What manner of evil has been done to her?

"Get away from me, you monster!" she screams hoarsely, her voice cracking.

Loki's own throat closes tight and he stares at her, stricken. For her to _say_ such a thing to him-

Her terrified gaze shifts to look past Loki. "Thor, please, help me! Don't let him hurt me anymore!"

Loki had forgotten about Thor. Now the thunder god's hand grasps Loki's arm painfully tight, jerking him to his feet even as Loki divines what has happened. "What does she speak of, Loki?" Thor rumbles angrily. "Is this some new scheme of yours? Because by Yggdrasil, if you lied to me, if _you_ have been the one harming her-"

Loki curses, throwing an elbow into Thor's guts and then shoving him into the wall with another curse. "_Fool._ So quick to ascribe ill intent to me, once again? No, it was not I," Loki snarls. "If it had been me, what purpose would it serve me to recruit you to rescue her? Do you see a trap laid before you here?"

Thor fiddles with Mjölnir, clearly unconvinced, while behind them, Jane sobs rackingly. "What then?"

Loki shakes his head and returns to Jane, though he stops a few paces from her, reaching out carefully with the last of his magic, until he senses the glowing threads of the spell binding her reason.

Yes, he should have realized as much. The more fool he. "A specialty of The Other, I fear. A spell to take one's memories and twist them, to re-enact them in visions where loved ones turn into torturers, to poison the mind with terror and agony. Alas, I know it well; the same magic was used on me whilst I was their…guest."

"Do you know how to break it?" demands Thor worriedly.

"Perhaps, though it may not be possible until I have regained more of my strength. But I will try. Be silent and let me work," Loki growls impatiently.

Jane tries to struggle free when he touches her, but he does not allow her to escape this time. The hoarse cries she emits make him cringe, and he quickly lays his hand on her head, trying to soothe her as best he can.

Carefully, he reaches inside her beleaguered mind and starts to unravel the tangles of The Other's spell.

He reflects on how stupid he had been, to think that her physical health was the only thing at risk once she'd been taken, although he suspects that has been compromised as well. There is blood leaking slowly from her nose, and he can vaguely sense the other physical troubles that plague her. This air is insufficient for her needs, he suspects. As a god, he and the others are not affected, but his Midgardian is not so fortunate.

Well, first he will see to her mind, and then her body.

It is a long process, and several times Loki feels as though he is pulling power right from the very marrow of his bones, but finally the spell is broken. Loki is left utterly spent and drained of all magic, but Jane blinks the tears out of her eyes and sees him at last. Truly _sees_ him.

"Loki," she whispers, her voice almost unrecognizable to his ears; it's nearly a croak. "You came for me."

He raises an eyebrow at that, frowning. Did she doubt him _again_? He chooses not to remember his moment of cowardice in the desert. "Of course I did, my Jane."

Jane's gaze shifts to Thor, who is looming over them both, and she smiles at last, her lips chapped and dry. "I see you even brought the cavalry."

Loki shrugs. "I required some aid, yes."

But Jane's eyelids are already slipping shut, exhaustion and relief relaxing the strain in her face. "Will you take me home? Please?" she asks.

"Of course," Loki repeats. He pulls his cape free and wraps her in it, cradling her carefully in his arms as he rises. He doesn't look at Thor.

Wordlessly, he carries Jane past Thor and out, continuing to walk until he is outside The Other's stronghold, picking his way around the blood pools and strewn corpses of the Chitauri garrison. He does not stop until he has reached Sif and the others. Only then does he look up from Jane's face.

They, like Thor, are bloodied and battered but overall whole. Not that Loki cares a whit.

"Is she-" Volstagg asks tentatively.

"Yet alive, but hurt. We are not sure of the extent of the harm that has been caused," Thor supplies, sparing Loki the effort. "Brother, we should take her to Asgard-"

Loki glares at Thor and shakes his head, setting his shoulders as if expecting a battle. "We are going nowhere until my strength has returned – my magic is not infinite. And then will I return _you_ _all _to Asgard. But she and I will be traveling to Midgard."

"The healers of Asgard-"

"I care not," Loki interrupts Thor coldly. "If I return, Odin will have me imprisoned once more, and I will not abide that. Besides, Jane asked to go home. You heard her yourself, did you not? 'Home' is Midgard. If the Midgardians prove unable to help her, _then_ will I bring her to Asgard. Not before."

Thor's brow darkens, but after a long moment, he seems to relent. "Very well, Loki. Send our friends home, but I will return with you to Midgard."

Loki rolls his eyes, thoroughly irritated, and lowers himself down to the ground, settling Jane into his lap. "To what purpose? To stand over me with Mjölnir, born of some misguided sense of-"

"_No_," now it is Thor's turn to interrupt. "I apologize for my earlier words, brother. But will you not agree that I am on better terms with the Midgardians than you?"

Loki raises his brow. "A moronic question; we all know the answer to that."

"Then you will need me, Loki," Thor asserts, ignoring Loki's insult. "SHIELD and Director Nick Fury mistrust you, and surely it is possible that if you arrive back on Midgard with Jane in such a state, they may not take you at your word? If I am there to vouch for you, I can only imagine things will go the smoother."

Loki bites back another sharp retort. He's seen to that already, hasn't he, with Lady Darcy?

Still, the strategist in him must acknowledge (grudgingly) that Thor has a point. As one of their lauded Avengers, Thor's presence and words will no doubt assure the best and most rapid care for Jane, and perhaps this may even improve Loki's standing with the mortals in the long run?

He would much prefer for things to return to what they had been, at least for the moment; with both Jane and himself on Midgard. He does not think Jane is yet ready to abandon her current life, to spend it a fugitive in Yggdrasil. Despite all the wonders he would enjoy showing her.

Still, some part of him wonders at Thor's insistence. Perhaps Thor does doubt him still? Well, no matter either way. So Loki agrees, but warily. He has come to expect traps lying in wait for him everywhere, given the events of the last mortal year. He will not let down his guard.

It takes nearly the entire length of an Asgardian day for Loki's magic to build to a useful level again. Loki chafes at the wait, even though he knows he needs to rest. He checks constantly on Jane but she does not wake, and the state of her health does not appear to worsen. That, at least, brings him some measure of relief.

Finally he is ready. First he sends Sif and the Warriors back to Asgard, waiting until he knows them safe on the Asbru Bridge before calling that end of the pathway back to himself.

He bends the pathway a final time, the process coming with much more ease now that he has had so much recent practice – surely this will prove useful if and when Thanos or other agents of his come calling – and before long they find themselves on Midgard. At Thor's suggestion, they materialize in the middle of the bridge of the so-called Helicarrier.

Much as Thor predicted, the reaction is swift – guns are drawn, curses are muttered - but with Thor attempting to appease the mortals and Loki's hands obviously occupied with holding Jane, no violence ensues.

Soon Fury, flanked by Barton and Romanov, arrives on the scene. He takes in everything, his single eye narrowed, then orders everyone to be at their ease and beckons Loki and his semiconscious burden forward.

"I'll take you to Medical," Fury says, Thor falling into step behind them both.

"Injuries?" Fury asks curtly as they stride down the corridor.

"I believe the air where she was held was insufficient to sustain your kind for long periods," Loki explains, striving to keep his tone as clinical and detached as Fury's, lest his emotions overwhelm him. "She has abrasions from her bindings, her nose bleeds at times, and I can sense other hurts – headache, weakness, nausea. She was also tortured with a spell to inject terrors into her mind, but I doubt much can be done about that last, except for the passage of time."

Fury nods, stopping in front of a large double door, and he motions them to proceed ahead of him as the doors sigh open.

Loki brushes by all the people in the room and deposits Jane on the nearest bed, then resists the efforts of the mortals to move him from Jane's side. Distantly, he is aware of Fury and Thor talking – discussing him, no doubt.

"Come, Loki," Thor urges, appearing at his side. "Let the mortals do their work." But Loki does not wish to heed him, so he does not. When Thor attempts to press the issue, Loki bares his teeth at him and jerks his arm free of Thor's grip-

Loki's hand accidentally strikes the side of Jane's bed, and spins it in a nearly-complete circle. Mortals scatter everywhere, and Jane wakes with a gasp.

"Loki!" Thor hisses warningly.

"Oh, very well," Loki growls. "In but a moment."

He stalks over to Jane's bed and re-orients it back to its starting position. "My apologies," he says unwillingly to the mortals milling nervously around them, then he turns to her. "Be at ease, Jane, you are safe. These Midgardian healers will attend to you now."

"Thank you," she whispers. Her voice still sounds strange to his ears, but some of the light is back in her eyes when she looks at him, and she smiles sleepily.

Guilt tears at him with taloned claws.

He allows Thor to lead him back out into the hallway, but the farther away he moves from Jane, the worse he feels.

This is all his fault.

When Loki returns later, Jane is asleep, an odd sort of muzzle affixed to her face. The Midgardian healers, still uneasy around him, explained that it is oxygen, to combat the damage that had been done.

Then they had left, leaving him to grip her cold limp hand gently within his own, to watch her still form and wish, passionately, that he had been prudent enough, _intelligent_ enough, to have spared her all this.

It is a poor reward she has been given, for all the gifts she has given _him_ so freely.

Loki had told his full story to Fury, in Thor's presence, which included confirming the events that Fury had heard himself from Lady Darcy. Thor had also added his own perspective, in agreement with Loki's, from time-to-time during the discussion.

Loki supposes that the sole positive thing to have come from this terrible experience is that Fury had seemed satisfied. Or at least satisfied enough to allow Loki to return to Jane, and the one-eyed leader of men hadn't even posted guards to follow after.

Though perhaps that last was merely because Fury realized how entirely useless such an exercise would be.

But that small victory has little luster. The Other had _found _Loki, and perhaps it had already communicated that fact to Thanos, before Loki killed it? Even if Loki redoubles his efforts, strengthens his cloak and his warning-spells, puts spells of protection on Jane…will it be enough? Does he dare risk her again?

Does he dare risk experiencing once more those horrific feelings of panic and fear, and now the guilt?

Unbidden, Jane's accusation comes back to him. _Get away from me, you _monster_!_

It even has echoes: _Because I am the _monster _parents tell their children about at night?_

Loki knows in his heart that Jane had not meant it, as confused and bespelled as she had been.

Yet, was it not effectively _true_? Though he had suspected at the start of their arrangement how dangerous it might be to involve her, to allow himself to become close to her and the comfort she offered, in his arrogance he had ignored his instincts. He had not recognized that _she_ might be the one to ultimately pay for the poor choices he had made so many months ago, when he had released his grip on Thor's hand and fallen into the abyss.

Not to mention- why give his enemies another way to hurt him?

Perhaps both of them would be better off-

The doors swish open, cutting off Loki's gloomy thoughts, and he looks up to see Selvig standing in the doorway. Loki's jaw tightens, but Jane's mortal friends have as much right to see her as he does, so he releases Jane's hand reluctantly and gets to his feet. "Dr. Selvig," he says quietly, eyes lowered lest he give some new offense, "You probably wish for some time alone with Jane."

He does not wait for an answer, sweeping past the other man, but Erik's low, bitter voice follows after him, freezing Loki in his tracks.

"I told her you were bad for her."

Loki's shoulders tighten until they ache, but for once he can find nothing to say in reply. For a brief moment he is tempted to turn and strike the foolish mortal who dares to insult him, but no doubt that is exactly what Selvig wants.

And besides, is that not exactly what Loki himself was just pondering?

He marches off before the scientist can make another cutting and accurate observation.

Loki finds Thor standing on what the mortals refer to as the observation deck, looking out at the rolling waves of the ocean beneath them.

"Loki!" Thor greets him. "How is Jane?"

"The healers tell me she is stable. They are giving her oxygen, and also medicines to treat her headache and nausea." Loki does not bother to share the complicated names of the medicines.

Thor nods and smiles, reaching to clasp Loki's shoulder. "You did well, brother."

Loki grinds his jaws together. Bad enough that he did _not_ do 'well'_._ Had he done _well_, Jane would never have been put in this predicament. Never suffered for his arrogance.

He requires a target for his anger. "I am _not_ your brother, _Odin_son. And saying it constantly will not make it so. _Ever_."

But Thor does not rise to the bait. Instead, his eyes sharpen as he studies Loki's face. "What troubles you, Loki? Jane is safe now."

"Nothing," Loki lies, already losing his taste for argument. "I am merely tired. Bending pathways between Realms is not a power I exercise often, and doing so multiple times has left me weary." He pauses, thinking quickly, then adds a further lie: "Indeed, it will be several days before I will be able to return you to Asgard."

Thor nods, appearing unconcerned. "Do not trouble yourself, Loki. I am in no hurry to return home." He grimaces, and Loki wonders just how strained things have become between Thor and Odin, though he does not ask. His curiosity is muted; he has far more practical matters to consider.

"I would prefer to remain until Jane is cured," Thor continues, "in case you need to bring her to Asgard after all. I would go with you, help you plead your case before Odin."

Loki toils to keep his face blank, even as his wrath rises and seethes below the surface. "I thank you," he manages to fib. _Plead before Odin? Hah! _

"Now, if you will excuse me," Loki declares, "I wish to go see to Jane."

Thor nods at him, and Loki turns on his heel and paces from the room before the urge to strangle Thor overcomes his good sense (or such of it that he still possesses).

Once in the hall, Loki reaches out with his magic. Selvig is still with Jane, which does not improve Loki's black mood at all.

_I told her you were bad for her._

His shoulders aching with tension, Loki searches for a quiet corner of the flying fortress in which to sit and think. _Alone._

Two days later the doctors pronounce her well enough to get out of bed, and Fury orders Jane to return home for some much-needed rest.

Jane does feel much better physically, though everything is still jumbled up in her head. She knows who she is, and who Loki is, and yet…it's like there's some shadowy after-image in her brain. As if her memories somehow exist on multiple planes at once, and in all of them except this one, Loki is as twisted and evil as so many believe him to be. And _worse_.

It does not help that Loki has been acting so oddly lately. He is quieter than usual around her, more detached. Although Thor had told her that Loki had sat with her nearly that entire first day while she had slept, gripping her hand as if he had been still in fear of losing her, Jane can't remember him holding it at all in the last two days.

Perhaps he is uncomfortable showing affection to her around so many people who were effectively his adversaries not so long ago. Or maybe it's Thor's presence? Thor expresses warmth and caring much more openly than Loki, and maybe Loki fears this reflects badly on him, given he is much more reserved?

But she also has to consider the very real possibility that this is all in her damaged psyche. Maybe she's _looking_ for problems, for evidence that the real Loki is not as he claims to be. Maybe it's her that's exaggerating the gulf between Thor's easy, friendly manner and Loki's awkwardness.

All in all, it is a relief when she gets the order to return home. Loki will be teleporting them back, of course, and then apparently he'll be sending Thor back to Asgard as well.

Jane will need to ask Loki to tell her the full story of her rescue, once she feels better. She's heard everyone else's side of it so far – Thor's, Darcy's (the latter by phone), and Fury's. But not his.

When Loki works his magic and they end up standing in the center of her living room, the barely-lived in apartment feels very welcoming. As is Darcy, who shows up not five minutes later. The women hug tightly, nearly babbling with relief.

Through it all, Jane is aware of Loki and how distant he seems, watching them as if they are strangers to him.

Even Darcy notices it, which at least confirms it's not all in Jane's head. "What's up with _him_? Do male Asgardians get periods or something?" she asks Jane in a low voice after pulling her aside into the kitchen.

Jane shakes her head and glances back at the living area. "I really don't know. He hasn't really talked to me since I regained something like real consciousness. Maybe he's just tired? Thor told me Loki drained all his magic trying to round everyone up, killing the head bad guy, and rescuing me." Jane leans against the counter. That's the other lingering problem she has – complete and utter exhaustion after the smallest effort. Maybe it's not so crazy to think that Loki is just as worn out as she is, if for different reasons?

Jane tries to stifle a yawn, and though she doesn't intend it to be interpreted that way at all, Darcy takes it as a hint. "Well, you're obviously tired so I'll leave you to rest. Give me a call if you need anything, OK? Or just to talk. I'm even willing to talk shop, if you want." Darcy adds with a smirk.

"Thanks, Darcy." Jane hugs her again. "Oh, and thanks for helping Loki. I don't know all the details, but Fury told me you basically helped make sure the Earth wouldn't be caught with its pants down if there was another alien army on the way."

Darcy shrugs. "Just helping out a friend," Darcy replies. She winks at Jane and crosses the living room, heading towards the door. "Later, Loki!" She calls over her shoulder, but Loki mumbles something in response that Jane can't make out.

The door closes, and they are alone together.

Jane wobbles a bit on unsteady feet as she walks towards the couch. She looks wistfully over towards the bedroom, but if something is bothering Loki, she'd rather talk it out first with him, if he'll let her.

She sits down and reaches out a hand to him, though he doesn't move, he just stares out the window.

"Loki," Jane tries, "I don't remember if I thanked you-"

"Thanks are not necessary," he contradicts her in that strange low, flat voice which has been his default over the past two days. When he has spoken to her at all.

Jane shifts uncomfortably and frowns. "What's the matter, Loki? Talk to me."

Loki says nothing for a very, _very _long moment. When he speaks at last, he turns towards her, but his eyes do not meet hers.

"Regretfully, I must dissolve our 'arrangement'," he says in that same empty tone.

Jane's eyes widen. He says nothing else, and a cold feeling starts in the pit of her stomach. "Wh- what?" she stutters. Surely he didn't say that, she must be imagining-

"While it has been most enjoyable, the time has come for me to focus on other, more important things."

Jane just stares at him, her heart thudding heavily in her ears. Words fail her.

"Yggdrasil is at risk," Loki goes on, "and I was a fool not to put it first. Thanos will surely make a play for the Tesseract. I must return to Asgard and defend it, or there will soon be nothing left. Everything will _end_."

Jane finally gets her jaw to work. "If you need to go away for awhile, that's OK. I understand. And I'm sure everybody would appreciate your efforts to help. But I don't see why that means we have to _end_ things completely-"

"It is a _distraction_, that is why. I have been selfish, focusing on mere physical pleasure, when I should have been thinking about the good of the Nine Realms."

"'Mere physical pleasure'?" Jane asks, her voice rising in pitch. "I don't understand you at all. First you come running to save me…and now _this_? Why are you trying to end our relationship?"

"'Relationship?'" he hisses, meeting her gaze at last, and his eyes are so cold that for a moment Jane can almost believe that her hallucinations were close to reality; that there's only a thin veneer separating them from the real Loki. She shrinks back into the cushions, heart pounding and icy sweat starting at her temples as he continues, his voice a growling rasp: "We did not have a _relationship_. We had an _arrangement_; an exchange of sexual intercourse and physical comfort. A tumble between sheets, for mutual entertainment. No more than that."

The cold feeling in her stomach intensifies, nausea twisting inside her.

"Don't _I_ get a say in all this?" She tries reaching for anger, but she's too tired and beaten down.

Deep in her bones, she knows that this battle is already lost.

"No," Loki says curtly, turning his searing gaze away again. "It is _done_. Be assured, Jane Foster of Midgard, that though it obviously seems cruel to you right now, this is better for all concerned. Were we to continue our arrangement, surely you would once again become a target for Thanos and his allies. I am doing this for _you_."

"No," Jane retorts, trying to muster the last of her energy, "You're not. I don't know _why_ you are doing it. What makes you think they won't come after me anyway, whether we are involved or not?"

But she's arguing to an empty room. He's already gone.

The silence presses on her temples and ears and she slumps on the couch, empty inside.

It makes no sense. Why rush across the universe, with Thor and a small group of Asgardians in tow, bring her back here…only to basically tell her that what they'd had was worth _nothing_?

How could he leave her like this, with her brain still addled by The Other's spell, having to remind herself half the time of what's actually happened to her and what was only poisoned delusion?

Unless…this had all been exactly what Erik and Fury had been telling her from the start – a lie. An elaborate ruse to get her to dump Thor, and then to cripple her emotionally.

If so, she had bought into his act. Hook, line, and sinker.

She'd let herself dare to fall in love with him, to trust him, despite all the warning signs. Despite even the evidence she'd witnessed with her own eyes – Loki stalking her, _threatening_ her.

Probably him backing off that very first time they'd met in person had been part of his strategy. Present himself as empathetic, as _human_, so she'd be dumb enough to trick herself into getting involved with him, into thinking she had made the choice to be with him, instead of realizing he was manipulating her...

_It's true, I _am_ the world's dumbest smart person._

Her head aches and her ears ring, and when she puts her hands automatically to the back of her neck, trying to relieve some of the oppressive tightness there, a final unpleasant surprise undoes her: Loki's necklace is still around her throat.

Jane puts her face into her hands and sobs, rocking slowly back and forth on the couch, numb and aching at the same time.

She's never felt so alone before.

**Yeah, yeah, I know, another cliffhanger. What can I say? Loki made me do it-**

**Ah, who am I kidding? It was me. And I'm not even sorry. So feel free to hate on me for it in the comments. :)**

**Time to play "Guess what happens next?": Any predictions on how Darcy will react to Loki's little dump-and-run? Thor? Erik? Fury? Is this the end for our favourite anti-canon couple? ;)**

**And I can't believe I've been writing this thing for over a year! Would you believe at one point it very nearly was nothing more than a one-shot non-con Lokane fic, before I had the much better idea to turn it into this supersized thing? *boggles***


End file.
